Howl (Witches & Warlocks Book 4), page 2
I just smile in return, not ready to admit that when I say I don’t know who I can trust, he’s kind of included in that statement. He walks me to my door, pulls me in for a long kiss, and then watches as I put my keys in the lock and let myself in.
It’s kind of funny. Just last week, Noah and I lived together. And now we don’t. But if my life isn’t the prime example that a lot can happen in just the blink of an eye, I don’t know what is. I mean, last week, Becca was dead and Luke was alive and I thought Barnabe Withers was on my team.
I shudder a little. I think I finally understand that hunted look everyone gets when they say his name.
When we got word that we’d be getting a stipend from the witches to support ourselves, Noah sat me down and suggested that we get separate apartments. At first I thought it was because he didn’t love me as much as he said he did and needed some space. You know, for the extra girls he was going to bring home. But when he explained his reasons, I couldn’t help but smile.
He told me that since we didn’t actually get to do the whole dating and falling in love thing the right way, he wants to do it now. Give me a chance to learn who I am when I’m on my own, since, because of Becca, I’ve never really had a chance to just be me being me in my own space. Give us a chance to build this relationship the right way, with two strong people coming together, their own needs and personalities intact. It’s sweet, really, when you think about it.
Of course, on my worst nights, I stay up too late worrying that he had an ulterior motive for not wanting to live with me. It’s pretty safe to say I have trust issues. But, after a lifetime of lies, I think it’s kind of clear why I might not just hand my heart over to the first person who asks for it.
I stand just inside my front door and realize there’s nothing about coming home that actually feels like coming home. All my old stuff reminded me of either Becca or Luke and all the uncertainty and death that came with them. So, using a big hunk of this month’s stipend, I bought all new stuff. I’ve got a plush couch and great art and awesome lamps. The place looks amazing. It just doesn’t look like home. It will soon though, as soon as I finish decorating and put my mark on the place.
I also got a kitten. Mr. Twinklebottom, or Twinks for short. I named him one night in a fit of laughter as he half ran, half pranced around the living room, chasing a little ball of magic I traced along the floors and walls. His little tushy wiggled when he ran, just a tiny little ball of kitten fur. Twinks is mewing at my feet now, and I swoop him up and hold him close.
“I can trust you, I bet,” I murmur into his neck as I nuzzle my face into his fur. “You’ll love me for always, won’t you? Because I’m the one with all the foods.” I smile and carry him into the kitchen, set him down before I fill up his bowl. While Twinks chomps away at his dinner, I take off my coat and change out of my funeral clothes. I wash my face and fix my streaky make up. It’s nearly time for dinner of my own, but I’m not sure if I’m even hungry. I sit down on my shiny new couch in my shiny new living room. I watch my shiny new cat curl up on my shiny new pillow. My toes dig into the shiny new rug and I let my eyes wander the shiny new pictures on my shiny new walls.
Just last week I was fighting for my life. Stopping time and launching spells at vampires. Going on covert missions to the gym to discover what the werewolves might have planned. This week? I’m just any other girl in her early twenties, not sure what she’s going to do with herself. I don’t know how to be this person. Not now. Not after all that’s happened in the last few weeks.
I sit for a while and watch the sun sink lower and lower until it finally kisses the horizon. Somewhere, deep in the woods behind my house, a lone wolf howls and the hairs on my arms stand at attention. With a little wave of my finger and a tiny little blip of magic, I flip on the light switch without needing to get off the couch, hoping that light will help with the growing sense of unease reaching into my living room with the darkness. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I’m being watched.
I putter about the kitchen, making dinner. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, but now that I can use my magic to help out, I love it all the more. I’ve got a pot on the stove, stirring itself. Cookie batter mixing up on the counter behind me. Dishes being washed right after they’re used. All while I’m busy working on the main course, humming to myself, my magic sparkling and creating a soft light in the room. The feeling of being watched fades along with the stress of Becca’s faux funeral and by the time I’ve got dinner done, I’m ready to start making my mark on this awesome new house of mine.
Other than the cookies, the meal is totally healthy. I kinda decided I like being in shape, so in addition to keeping my appointments with Albert at BAM! Fitness, I’ve been working on my meal plans as well. In an attempt to keep our hobbies aligned, Noah joined the gym, too. I had to fight down a huge surge of worry when he did. What if he’s got ulterior motives for joining the gym? What if he’s on a mission to scope out the wolves? What if Daya decided that without Luke to balance out my dark magic, I’m worthless? What if? What if? What if? Will I ever learn to trust?
Anyway, gym time is the only thing on the calendar tomorrow. I’m thinking after that, I’ll head over to Windsor and see what I can find in the library about the witch families and genealogy. Maybe start learning a little more about our history. Our strengths. Our weaknesses. Maybe learn a little about the vamps and the weres while I’m at it.
Not that I really need to. With the Trinity missing a key player, I’m not so sure that I’ll be any kind of useful at all anymore. Thing is, I’m not really OK with that. I liked my high octane lifestyle. Going back to work in cubicle-land while worrying about building a 401k and paying off student loans won’t hold a candle to being a badass witch out to save the world from the evil vampires plotting against it.
As impatient as I am to find out what they’re going to do with me, I’m gonna have to bide my time because there are some major shifts in the political structure of the witches. With Barnabe Withers dead, there’s a vacant throne and it looks like Daya’s going to take his place. That means someone’s going to have to take her place at Windsor Manor. There’s been like fifty summits since Barnabe died, all designed to suss out the new structure of things, and apparently, none of them have been have been pleasant.
I make a mental note to look up some info on our government while I’m at the library tomorrow. It really is time that I knew more about my culture. I chuckle to myself, the sound startling Twinks. He lifts his fuzzy little head and stares me down before stretching, rolling onto his back, and falling right back to sleep. I rub his belly and he cracks an eye open, clearly trying to decide between purring and turning into a buzz saw of teeth and nails. He finally comes to a decision and revs up the tiny motor in his chest and closes his eyes.
There’s the tiniest of sounds outside the big bay window in my living room. The one that looks out towards the woods. The one I absolutely love to look through while I drink my morning coffee. The one with the blinds I forgot to close. Twinks leaps to his feet, making good on that buzz saw promise and arches his back, fur standing out in all directions, yowling towards the window.
It’s dark outside and light inside. If anyone is out there, they can see me, but I can’t see them. With another wave of my fingers, I turn off the lights, even the playing field. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I guess, I don’t see anything out there. Just the long line of trees stretching out along the edge of my yard, snow gathering on their branches. The moon, low and full, glowing through their edges.
Twinks bolts off the couch, and runs towards the stairs, a little ball of crazed fur blazing over the hardwood floors. The hairs on my arm are still on edge, and the hairs at the back of my neck join them.
Muttering a protection spell or twenty, I slink towards the window, careful to stay near the wall in case there is someone, or something, watching me through the glass. When I still don't see anything, I reach out to twist the blinds closed, eyes searching the night, looking for whoever — or whatever — was stalking around outside my house.
I see nothing. Hear nothing.
With unease boiling in my stomach, I keep the lights off downstairs. Grab my phone and head up to my room. Keep the lights off up there until I can be sure that the blinds in my windows are closed and then, even though I saw nothing outside and I’m pretty sure I’m safe, I opt for nothing more than a small globe of magic for light until I head to bed.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that you can’t really trust anything to be what it seems.
Chapter Three
I wake up to a blindingly bright December morning and peek out through the window, unease from last night still raking its way up my back. There’s a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. Undisturbed snow. As in, not a single footprint to be found anywhere. So, either whatever I heard last night was nothing to be concerned about, or it snowed after the something to be concerned about left. Regardless, with the sun up, it feels more like I was just being silly last night than anything else. I take a deep breath and stretch, determined not to let today be ruined by yesterday’s weird mood.
I check my phone and find a text from Noah.
It’s a beautiful day for a beautiful girl. Can’t wait to see you.
I smile and shoot one back.
Good morning, Mr. Wonderful. Can’t wait to see you, too.
And that’s totally true. As pragmatic as the decision to live separately is, I still feel better when he’s around. Miss seeing him in the morning, all bare chested and crazy haired. Miss watching him cook eggs and toast. Miss hearing him sing to himself in the shower.
And so, with all those thoughts in my head, I get dressed, have a quick breakfast and make my merry way to the gym. It’s a longer drive than it used to be, but it’s one that happens in my new car rather than a smelly old bus. So for one, it takes about half the time, and for two, it's a way more enjoyable experience. Radio on, seat warmer on, head boppin’, ready to get my blood pumping, I pull into the parking lot. I’m greeted by the now familiar blast of musty, humid, gym-sweat smelling air when I open the door to the Wolf Den.
“Hey! Lil’ witch!” Xavier slides the sign-up sheet over to me and I sign below Noah’s tidy signature. No matter how on the ball I am, that guy is always more so.
Albert sticks his head out his office door as I head back towards the locker rooms. “Your guy here yet?” he asks.
“Think so. Bet he’s in the locker room.” I pause and lean against the door. “You gonna break him in real good for me?”
Albert gives me a funny look and I realize that’s so not what I meant to say. I start to sputter an explanation and a blush works its way up from my toes to my hairline. “I really didn’t mean—”
Albert holds up his hands, laughing. “No worries. I know what you meant.” He lifts an eyebrow and hits me with a devilish grin. “You want me to break in your boyfriend, real good.”
Oh man, he’s never gonna let me live this down. “You know what I mean, Albert.” I point my finger at him and level him with my most serious of serious looks, trying desperately to recover from the foot in my mouth from just a moment ago. “Make him sore.”
“You want me to break him in until he’s sore?”
Oh, hell.
I just shake my head and walk away. At least here, I don’t need to pretend to be sad over losing my best friend. Everyone here knows the truth of what really happened.
I pass Noah on the way to the lockers and he swoops in close for a big kiss. Ignoring the whoops and hollers coming from the wolves, I kiss him right back, threading my hands up into his hair. I resist the urge to run them down his back and grab his ass, figuring you know, public place and all. Noah doesn’t do so well with the whole resisting deal. His hands slide down my low back, and then keep right on sliding. The whoops and hollers explode into whistles and cat calls. The wolves are a vivacious bunch.
“I missed you last night,” he whispers into my ear before kissing my neck, that sweet spot right below my jaw.
“Seems like it,” I reply, trying to ignore the rush of heat he’s got building in my body. You know, public place and all.
“We’re running with the wolves, baby. Gotta stake my claim on you.” And then, with a little pat on the butt, he’s off to meet Albert, leaving me all hot and bothered and suddenly the focus of way more attention than I really want to deal with. I rush to the locker room and get dressed before hurrying out to find Allison, my personal trainer. Thankfully, she’s got me on the same side of the gym as Noah today. I get to watch as he makes his way through the workout Albert crafted for him. Noah’s not as big as the wolves, but he’s not small, and his muscles look decidedly yummy in his white tank top and low slung sweat pants.
“Hey!” Allison waves a hand in front of my face. “You’re gonna need to focus on you, chickadee. Not the man meat. Hear me?” I chuckle and try to devote myself to my workout, but fail miserably. At least Allison has the eyes of a hawk and catches me every time my attention wanders.
I make it through the hour and am feeling pretty good. I’m definitely stronger. Don’t get tired as easily. I think I’m starting to see changes in my body. I was never one to care about the whole get fit craze, but now, I’m starting to understand why everyone thinks it’s such a big deal.
“That felt great!” Noah’s dark hair is still damp from his shower and is falling in little clumps onto his forehead. He stretches and rubs a hand across his chest. “Gonna be sore in the morning I think.”
“Ya? You think you’re gonna like this place?” I ask, resisting the urge to dry his hair for him. Just a little spell would do it. It’s cold outside and that’s no good with wet hair. But he’s a big boy and needs a girlfriend, not a mommy.
“For sure,” he says with a big old grin. “Even better when I get to watch you prancing around in your tight little work out get-up. Bending over, reaching for stuff. Bouncing around on the treadmill.”
I know I’m supposed to be offended, but it feels really good that he likes looking at me, especially considering how much I like looking at him. We leave the gym, his arm wrapped tight around my shoulders and make plans to spend the evening together. Noah watches me get into my car and lock the door. Smiles as he turns the key in his ignition and pull out of the parking space. For just a second, while I’m turning my car on and getting the seat heater cranked up to molten lava hot, I get that strange feeling like someone’s looking at me. Like there’s eyes on me from somewhere that I can’t see. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I shiver despite the fact that my tush is getting warmer by the minute.
And then, just as quickly as it happened, it’s gone. I throw the car in gear and head to Windsor Manor. For a second, I thought I’d pop in and say hi to Daya, but then I remember that she’s probably not going to be there. I wonder if her replacement’s been chosen yet. I wonder what said replacement will do to with the color wheel explosion that is Daya’s office. I might just have to detour over that way on my way to the library, because you know, inquiring minds and all.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts by some jerk in a truck pulling up way too close behind me, riding my tail for a few nerve wracking seconds, and then blasting past me, throwing slush my way with his massive tires. The wind from his passing rocking my car. What the hell? I’m going over the speed limit.
Some people...
I pull up in front of the foreboding brick mansion that is Windsor Manor and hand my keys over to the valet. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to that, but considering the size of my monthly stipend, it seems the witches do enjoy their luxury. Even though the sun is shining, the day is cold. I pull my coat up a little tighter around my neck and duck my chin low, looking for more warmth.
Head down, hands in pockets, I stride towards the stairs, intent on taking them two at a time and therefore getting indoors and out of the cold as quickly as I can. I’m so not prepared for the hand on my arm, pulling me to a stop.
I whirl, magic at the ready, a glare on my face.
“Whoa!” The guy from Becca’s funeral holds up his hands. The one standing in the back. The one I didn’t recognize. “Down girl. Not gonna hurt you. Just here to talk.”
His words are saying one thing, but his actions are saying another. He’s still standing way too close to me and I don’t like the nasty little glint in his eyes. The scruff of his beard, gone too long between shaves. The greasy mess of his unkempt hair. I continue moving up the steps, walking backwards, not willing to turn my back on the guy.
Wolf, actually. This guy’s one of Albert’s, even though I’ve never seen him around the gym. He follows me, staying just inside my personal space.
“I’m not in the mood for talking” I say, reaching the top step and turning to walk towards the door.
“I won’t take long. Not even long enough to warrant that guy over there taking my truck,” he says, indicating the valet.
My eyebrows want to shoot into my hairline, but I don’t let them. Better to keep a cool exterior in these situation. But the fact that he came here in a truck just about finalizes the whole ‘I’m not comfortable with this guy’ deal. Was he the asshole that blew past me on the road? Did he follow me from the gym?
I really wish the valet hadn’t taken my keys so I could have them in my hand, ready to lash out if this guy makes a move for me, but then I realize how silly that is. I don’t need a weapon. I am a weapon. I reach out for the tiger and find her ready and waiting, eager to be set free.
I push through the front door and Mr. Crazy follows me right on in. “What do you want?” I ask as the doors swing shut behind him.
He takes another step towards me, putting himself even further inside my personal space. “I need your help with something,” he says.
That takes me a little off my guard. Me? Why me? I may know Albert well enough to joke with him at the gym, but that’s not going to put me in a position to do this guy any favors. If this guy thinks I can talk to Albert and pull a few strings for him, he’s got another thing coming. I tell him as much and he laughs at me, his stinky wolf-man breath blasting me in the face.
