Feral (24 page)

Marcus Pera, eat your heart out.  I almost wished he could see me tonight so that he could see for himself what he
forsook, and cursed to this baneful existence of lycanthropy.  Bastard.

Rooting though my
closet, I chose a little nude number, a sleeveless sheath dress with a boat neck that reached mid thigh.  The lacy outer shell was covered in sequins and beads that glittered romantically in the dim light of my room.  I paired it with deep blue heels, unadorned in a matte satin finish that made my legs look a mile long.  Peyton had told me so when she insisted that I purchase them.

My smile faded on a whim
, my inner musings squelching like a doused flame.  Plopping down on the edge of my bed, I dropped my head into my hands. I didn’t owe Icarus anything.  So why was I going to dinner with him?  Why was I going on a date at all when my life was going to hell in a hand basket?  The stress was surely affecting my good judgment.

My ex-best-friend was missing and I was glamming
it up for a hot date.  Yes, I thought Icarus was hot.  Holier than hot.  Magma hot. 
That
was why I was going to dinner with him.  Because I was tired of denying my feelings for him.  It was hard to dislike someone when you knew what they were putting on the line for you.  Not only had he accepted me into his home when he knew I was a danger to his family, but he had pursued me.  He made it right with my parents.  He made a place explicitly for me to stay, carved a nook in his home to make me feel welcome, and made me one of his own.  He was protecting me when he could’ve turned the other cheek.  He had no obligation to defend me.  Yet, here I sat, safe and alive, because of him.

Still, I had this nagging sense of foreboding telling me to keep my distance.  Don’t involve yourself with him.  It’ll only hurt worse in the end.  Perhaps it was self-preservation from years of introversion
, thanks to Michael Dougherty.  Perhaps it was the threat of Alec and his employer looming perpetually in the forefront of my mind.  Whatever the reason, it had me in knots, doubting Icarus’s ability to protect me, and doubting the depth of his feelings for me.

The sound of Icarus’s Porsche purred along the driveway and coasted to a stop
outside the garage.  I rose from the bed and peeked out the window, catching his back as he entered the house.  That small glimpse set my heart aflutter.  He cut his hair for me, and shaved.  I could smell the faint scent of his cologne as it drifted through the window.  My hormones pounded like a pneumatic hammer, pulverizing my feelings of uncertainty.  God, I had it bad.

I slipped off my shoes and skipped down the stairs, my toes padding lightly against the bare wood floors. 
I could hear his voice among the others in the kitchen, but they were speaking in whispers, barely loud enough to hear.  I think I was as surprised as they were when I emerged from the hall, catching them all unawares.  Crispin had always accused me of plodding.

“Don’t tell me what?” I asked.

Icarus froze, half a cookie stuffed into his mouth.  Max choked, coughing crumbs over the countertop.  Caius pounded him on the back overzealously, nearly sending him to the floor with each blow of his burly hand.  The others merely gaped at me like a school of goldfish.

“
Hellooooo…?” I prompted.

“Dude,” said Crispin, recovering.  “Lucius found—”

“Shut it,” Lucius snapped, smacking Crispin upside the head.  Affronted, Crispin scowled and rubbed his scalp, smoothing his hair.

“Owe!  Asshat!  That hurt!”

“Found what?” I pressed.  A sign of Peyton?  Alec’s scent near her house?  A corpse?  My mind wandered, images flashing through my mind of every possible atrocity.

“Nothing,” Max wheezed.

“A hair,” Crispin answered.  “A long blonde hair in one of your cookies.”

“No way!” I gasped, my face reddening. 
I hadn’t imagined
that
.  Self-consciously, I brushed my hair behind my shoulder.

“Was so long,” Crispin elaborated,
“we could’ve made a yoyo out of it.”

So it wasn’t about Peyton,
but it
was
an atrocity.  I could picture Lucius playing walk the dog with a cookie spinning from the end of one of my long blonde hairs.

Caius cut Crispin a glare. 
“Shut it, Runt.”

“No, it’s ok,” I said, grabbing the plate of cookies.  Eyeing them dubiously, I headed for the wastebasket.  “Throw them out.  That’s so gross.  A hair.  Yuck.”

A vociferous chorus of protests sounded behind me, escalating in epic proportions as I tipped the plate and dumped the cookies into the trash.

“
We told you not to tell her!” Bacchus chided, stalking off angrily.

“It was just ONE hair!”
Caius exclaimed, following Bacchus.  “They weren’t all bad!”

“Thanks a lot, Runt,” Lucius grumbled,
“One cookie!  I got one freakin’ cookie!

Max strolled to the trash can and retrieved a handful fr
om the top of the pile.  “Three second rule,” he shrugged. “Still good.”

“Come on gu
uuuuys!” Crispin whined, following everyone from the room.  “I had to tell her!  You saw her face!  She would’ve thought we were hiding something!  I didn’t know she’d throw them
all
out.  Owe!  Cut it, man!  Dude, I’m soooo going to kick your ass!”

A rumble ensued, though accompanied with the sound of laughter.  I shifted my weight, biting my lip
as I listened to them brawl over my befouled cookies.

“
Give me five minutes to change,” Icarus said, cramming the last of the cookie into his mouth.  Pressing a quick kiss on my cheek, he trotted up the stairs, leaving me to my humiliation.

Chapter 13

The Inn was only five miles away, out on six-eleven, still within Icarus’s territory.  I wasn’t sure how it worked, exactly.  Public area’s seemed like they should be neutral, but he assured me, they weren’t.  Granted, he hadn’t enforced his borders until recently, when Marcus and Alec showed up.  Since their first encounter with the rogues, he and his pack had marked them regularly.

“Marking,” I repeated incredulously.  “Do you mean like…”

“Urinating is the most effective, but d—”

“La
lalalalalalala,” I said loudly, plugging my ears.  “Don’t really need to know anymore.  TMI.  Seriously.”

Laughing robustly, Icarus’s eyes
oscillated from me to the road.  “Dander, Thaleia, and hair. When you’re running the perimeter you tend to come in contact with brush and trees.  The oils from our coat carry our scent.  It’s not quite as effective, but it serves its purpose.”

No duking involved.  Thank God.

Relieved of the notion, I reapplied the lip gloss I had chewed off, battling nerves.  “So is that how you came across Marcus and Alec then?”

Icarus nodded once. 
“They chased their game onto our territory.”

“Game,” I repeated, incredulously
, tossing my gloss back into my bag.  Icarus’s laugh renewed afresh.  “This isn’t funny,” I chastised.  “Do you mean like, deer and stuff?”

“
Venison’s good.  Ever try it?”

“No!”  Crossing my arms over my chest, I sank back in the seat, trying to stamp out the image of a defenseless Bambi from my mind.  Belatedly, another thought occurred to me that sent my back straight again.  “Is that what you eat?  That’s why your cupboards are bare?”

“We’re lycan, Thaleia.”

“I’ll stick with my ‘bird food’, thanks.”

“Your tastes will change.”

I sniffed. 
“The boys don’t seem to mind my cooking.”

“I’m not sa
ying variety isn’t good.  They’ve fed on deer and rabbit for some time now; they’re a little bored of it.”

Thumper joined the image
s assailing my mind.  I think I was about to become the first lycan vegetarian.  There was no way I was eating some furry woodland creature with a twitchy little nose for my evening meal.  Besides, I always heard rabbits were riddled with parasites.

Gross.  Just gross.

My appetite took a nose dive.

Icarus pulled a sharp right into the parking lot of The Inn.  It had been
years since I’d eaten here, but it still looked the same.  The place was a historic, two story stone farmhouse with a small creek that ran beneath the footings and through the basement of the restaurant, where they stored their selection of freshwater fish.  The staff would escort you down to choose your own, but I could never do it.  No, I preferred my meats to come in a shape that resembled, in no way whatsoever, the animal from which it originated.  I once ordered a lobster, and when they brought it to the table, its beady black eyes stared at me until I covered it with my napkin.

“—for you
.”

“Sorry,” I said, waking from my musing.  “Daydreaming.”  Reaching for the door handle, Icarus grasped my hand.

“No, I said, let me get the door for you.  All manners aren’t lost on us.”

I appreciated that once I tried to climb from the Porsche in my mini dress.  I hadn’t considered that when I dressed.  No matter, I took his hand, swung my legs out, and rose to my feet, poise intact.

“You look nice tonight,” Icarus praised, admiring my legs.  “No, not nice.  Beautiful.  Svelte.  Jesus.  You’re like a doe with those legs.”

I blushed at the predatory look in his eyes
, the apples of my cheeks warming.

“Sir?” said the valet, breaking
his spell.  Though the boy barely looked old enough to drive, Icarus traded his keys for a small blue ticket, and led me inside.

The lights were dimmed romantically.  Candles flickered from the
white linen tabletops scattered sparingly throughout the room.  The carpet had seen better days, but it softened the sound of my heels on the hardwood floor.  Old American paintings and antiques originating from the historic Bucks County countryside, covered the walls.  Overall, the place was quaint.

The hostess
beamed from behind her podium, two dimples sinking on either side of her bubbly cheeks, aiming in Icarus’s direction.  Eyes flickering to me, her smiled faltered slightly.

“
Mr. Quirinus, your private room is ready.  Right this way.”

Private room? I
mouthed to Icarus.  God, he was presumptuous, skipping right through dinner and right to the room.

“Private
dining
room,” he clarified, pushing me off after the hostess.  “To filter the noise.  I don’t need to hear everyone else’s conversations.”

I smiled from the corner of my mouth. 
“Could be interesting.”

“Bunions and shareholder reports?”

Ewe on both accounts.  “Perhaps you’re right.”

The
hostess led us to in a small room off the main hall.  It might’ve been a bedroom in the early days.  Large enough for a chest of drawers and a slat bed.  Icarus took my coat and hung it on a hook by the entrance, and pushed my chair in for me when I sat down.

Placing two menus on the table before us,
the hostess smiled again at Icarus, sparing an appraising second glance in my direction.  “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

“She likes you,” I said when she was
out of hearing’s reach.  I watched her walk away, her derrière swaying like a pendulum, in an instinctive bid for Icarus’s attention.

“She’s a hostess.  It’s her job.”

“Really, she sized me up as competition.”

“There is no competition.”

I flushed lightly.  Taking a sip of water, my nose wrinkled.  It tasted of chlorine and stale ice.  I placed it back on the table, pushed it away.  “Can I ask you a question?”

I was
recalling something he had said to Marcus about Jack that night at my parent’s house.  I wondered if it was true, or if it had merely been a hastily assembled excuse.

“You don’t need permission to ask
me a question.”

“
What you told Marcus about Jack, was it true?”

Hesitantly, he nodded. 
He hadn’t expected the change of conversation.  “I offered Jack a place in my pack.”

Well that wasn’t what I was asking, but
now that he mentioned it my curiosity was piqued.  “How did you meet him?  Did you know him long?  I wouldn’t think that’s something easily decided.”

“
The twins brought him home one night a few years ago.  Found him in the woods.  He was in bad shape.  Drunk.  Nearly hypothermic.  Bent on self-destruction.  His parents divorced.  He didn’t feel like he belonged in either home.  So I took him in, straightened him out.”

“Made him feel he belonged.”

“I like to think so.”

“
Well you obviously trusted him enough to offer him a place in your home.”

“He knew for a while
that we were different, spending so much time around us.  At home, the twins aren’t exactly discreet, let alone Crispin.”  He rolled his eyes.

“
Home’s the one place you can be yourselves.”

Icarus nodded contemplatively.
  Clearly, he mourned Jack.

“I’m sorry.
  I don’t mean to pry.”

“
You’re not.  It’s just that I’ve made mistakes.  I should’ve been more careful.  Introducing someone to our world is never safe.  The change alone could kill a person, but it presents other dangers as well for those who survive.”

I u
nderstood all too well.  “Like rogues and rivals.”

“
Of course.”

“You’re not responsible for Jack’s death.”

“I don’t know about that.  If I had discouraged him from hanging around, maybe he would’ve moved on.  Met a nice girl.”  He looked pointedly at me.  “Lived a normal life.”

So it was true.  Jack did love me.  Enough to die protecting me.

Icarus’s eyes flickered over my shoulder.  Our waitress approached the table, another bubbly grin.  “Hi, my name is Megan, I’ll be your server tonight.  Can I start you off with a drink and appetizer, or are you ready to order?”

She was bearable, keeping her mind on her job and off my date.

“All,” Icarus answered, placing his hand over mine on the table.  “We’ll start with one glass of Amarone and one Lambrussco.  The prosciutto wrapped scallops as appetizer.  And for dinner, two fillet’s, the twelve ounce and the six, accompanied by the rosemary potatoes, and the roasted asparagus with hollandaise sauce.”

“Very good,
” Megan commended.  “How would you like the steaks cooked?”

“Rare bleu for the twelve and rare for the six.”

“Medium for the six,” I interrupted.  Rare, was he crazy?  That’s practically mooing and kicking.  My eyes bugged out in objection.

“Rare,” Icarus insisted, fighting a smile.

“If you don’t like it, we can throw it back on the grill,” Megan politely intervened.  I think she actually rose to her toes and bounced, bursting with inner joy.  I bet she got good tips.

Whatever.  I nodded
consentingly, rolling my eyes.  Rare it is.

“Your drinks will be right out!” Megan
beamed a million megawatt smile.  I wondered if her cheeks hurt by the end of the night.  Collecting our menus, she departed to place our order.

Gathering my attention, Icarus
rubbed his thumb over my fingers in a soft sweep.  “You’ll like it.  Trust me.”

“D
o you have the menu here memorized or something?”

“Hailey and I have a lot of time on our hands when everyone’s at school.”

“Oh?  Do you order her food for her too?”

“
In the beginning.  Her education was lacking.”

Her personality was lacking, but I refrained from pointing that out.

“I think it was kind of you to help Jack,” I said, steering the conversation away from Hailey and back to the former subject.  I didn’t want to argue with Icarus tonight.  Especially over the Imp.  “Most people would’ve looked the other way and not thought twice about it.”

Discontented, Icarus retracted his hand, sitting back in his chair. 
“The twins brought him home.  I would’ve looked the other way.  And he might’ve fared better had I done so.”

“I think you’re being hard on yourself. 
Really. If you want to get technical, Alec killed Jack because he was looking for me.  I just happened to attend a party he was hosting that night.  I could just as easily say it was my fault.”

Icarus
averted his eyes and I had the sudden notion that I was missing something.  I replayed our conversation in my head, trying to piece together my oversight.  The answer was there, niggling at me, like a horsefly circling your ear, coming close, but always out of reach.

Maybe I didn’t really want to know.

Maybe it was nothing and I was beating a dead horse, grasping for some minor fault that would give me an excuse to bail out on our little rendezvous.

It came to me then.  His words that night. 
That’s the irony of recollections.  You compel yourself to remember something, and just when you’ve given up, the answer floats up like a leaf in the wind.  ‘
We had a potential pack mate that had feelings for Thaleia.  He was concerned about your interest in her.
’

I was so stuck on the fact that Jack liked me, that I overlooked the rest.

“He came to you for help, didn’t he?”  Because Jack knew Marcus was a lycan.  He would’ve been able to recognize their peculiarities, hanging around a lycan den for so long.  “Is that why Jack had the party?  Was it like a set up or something so you could question Marcus?”

Icarus dropped his head, dragging a hand through his hair.  When he looked up again, his e
yes deepened poignantly.  “No.  The party was Jack’s hand at manipulation.  He came to me a few weeks ago about Marcus.  I told him he was none of my concern as long as he was out of my territory.  So he lured him into my territory, where I’d have no choice but to confront him.”

I heard him wrong, I thought
, as I searched desperately for some redeeming detail in his confession.  The tiniest straw was all I needed, some small string of hope.  I wanted so very much for him to be better a better person.  I
needed
him to be better.  The cosmos couldn’t have pitted itself against me, personally, could it?  I had thrice fallen for the wrong guy?

When I could come up with nothing, anger won over.

“Well, good for Jack for having the balls to do the right thing,” I said, standing from my chair.  Following suit, Icarus grasped my arm.

“
I’m sorry, Thaleia.”