August’s eyes flashed in the darkness of his car. “To have matured. I’d expected you to have matured.”
“If the mark of maturity is becoming biddable, then I hope I never mature, August Watt.”
He shook his head. “You’re really going to walk eleven more miles in the dark in heels?”
“You’re right.” I slid off my heels, hooking them onto my fingertips, then proceeded to the thin strip of grass edging the road to cushion my footfalls. “It’s easier without heels.”
He growled. “Ness, come on. I’m being serious here.”
“You’re always so serious. You should lighten up. Maybe take up barefoot promenades under the stars. They’re very soothing.” I looked at the sky and tried to find the constellations he’d taught me to find so many years ago. “Is that Andromeda or Cassiopeia? I can never tell between the two.”
When he didn’t answer my question, I turned toward him. Instead of looking at the sky, he was staring at me.
“Not interested in constellations anymore?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you which one it is if you get in the car.”
I tipped him a crooked smile. “Nice try, but it would take way more to get me off this road and into that truck.”
“Ness, this isn’t a joke. Creeks are running amok in our woods. They killed your cousin.”
And he’d just killed my mood. “So what, August? I should live my life in fear now? I’m not invincible. I know that. If anything, Everest’s death has really brought this home, but I’m also not going to hide. They killed my cousin for a reason, and I doubt that reason was because he was a Boulder wolf.”
August loosed another exasperated growl. “Negotiating with terrorists is easier than with you.”
And just like that, my smile was back. “So? Andromeda?”
“Yes,” he huffed.
I pointed to another assortment of stars. Even though I could sense I was tugging at August’s patience, he told me each one of their names. For eleven miles, he fed me information about stars and nebulas and planets.
When we reached my new home, the bottom of my feet ached, but I felt as vaporous as the stars jewelling the heavens.
I folded my arms on the open passenger window. “So this was fun.”
August grunted in response.
“Okay then, Caveman Watt.” I tapped the window frame. “You have yourself a good night.”
I smiled at him, and it thawed some of the tightness around his eyes. As I walked toward the flight of stairs that led to my new front door, I heard him call out, “I’m glad you haven’t changed, even though I sense you’re going to drive me insane.”
I grinned at the door. “A little insanity will do you good.”
I stepped inside the tiny foyer, trailing blood and dirt across the clean oak floors, marking my new territory.
I woke up to the brightest and whitest sunshine. It streamed through my window, splashing warmth against my rumpled sheets and the bare patches of skin poking out of those sheets. I stretched, and bones cracked delightfully along my spine.
For a moment, I watched the unobstructed view of the mountains bathed in blue sky. It didn’t compare to the view from the inn, but this was still a damn good view. One I could get used to.
What a dangerous thought that was.
Getting used to something.
Just because I wouldn’t let myself get attached didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it until I was uprooted and tossed between another set of walls. I rolled out of bed and stood up, but the minute the soles of my feet made contact with the cool floorboards, I winced and fell back.
Maybe I’d overdone it last night.
Walking a dozen or so miles barefoot was probably not the wisest thing I’d done, and God only knew how many unwise things I’d already done. I could just imagine August wagging his finger at me and saying, I told you so. He probably wouldn’t wag his finger, but he would definitely say I told you so. Good thing he wasn’t here.
Keeping one hand on the bare walls of my bedroom, I limped to my bathroom. The tiles were still speckled in blood and dirt. I’d felt glad to mark my territory last night, but in the morning light, I regretted not having washed off my feet in the kitchen sink. At least I’d had the sagacity of soaking them in soap and ice-cold water before getting into bed.
After brushing my hair and teeth, I went into the living room to check on my uncle. Not only was he up, but he was having coffee with Nelson and August. I splayed my palm against the wall so I wouldn’t keel over, which drove a smug smile to August’s lips. How had I not heard our visitors? The apartment wasn’t that big, and my werewolf hearing was supposed to be sharp.
I jerked my hand off the wall and took a tentative step, but grimaced. Could toes break from too much walking? Something definitely felt broken. And I wasn’t even talking about the skin that had blistered and cracked in a multitude of places.
“I hope we didn’t wake you,” Nelson said, setting his mug down.
I took another slow, agonizing step.
“You okay, there, Ness?” August asked.
I pushed a smile onto my lips. “Yep. Great.”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his big arms like a spectator enjoying a show. Another step and I reached the small linoleum countertop that separated the living slash dining room from the kitchen.
The trail of blood I’d left behind the previous night had turned brownish, blending into the dark knots of the yellowed oak.
“Nelson and August stopped by because they were worried about our living arrangements,” Jeb said, even though I hadn’t asked. Not that I wasn’t curious. I wondered what he thought about their concern. “And they brought us scones.”
He pointed to the plate topped with golden triangles flecked with tendrils of lemon peel that scented the air, which was a feat considering how strongly August fragranced the space. I wondered if it was the mating link that intensified his aroma or if he didn’t wash the soap off his skin after lathering up.
Keeping my hand on the countertop, I limped a couple inches closer to the small, round table.
“Yum,” I said. About the scones. Not about August.
I mean he smelled good, but the scones smelled better. Good enough to eat. Unlike August, whom I had no desire to eat. Apparently incapable of doing two things at once, I stopped walking in order to shove away my cannibalistic deliberations.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Nelson asked.
“What?””You look like you’re in pain.” Nelson gestured to me.
Oh. “Just a Charlie horse.” I looked down at my bare legs, regretting not having swapped my sleep shorts for something more concealing. I glanced toward my bedroom. Nope. Wasn’t slogging back there. Besides I’d almost reached the free chair between Jeb and August.
One more step…
Cold sweat beaded on my upper lip as I finally dropped down into the chair with an audible oomph.
August, who was angled away from the table, crossed one foot over his opposite knee and grinned so wide I wanted to smack him.