New York wasn’t what I’d expected; it was annoying. Irritation, impatience, and indifference surrounded me. And that was just on one of the main arteries leading into the city. I rolled my shoulders and shifted in my seat.
“Are you all right?” Carlos asked.
“I’m getting the itch to hit someone. So yeah, I’m good.”
“We’ll be to the apartments soon,” Winifred said from the front seat.
I looked out the window at the traffic crawling around us and doubted it. So, I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.
It took almost an hour before the car turned off. By then, my skin tingled with what I’d absorbed. The indifference would have been cool if that was all I had. But the irritation and impatience infected me, too. It wasn’t just the energy but also the moods seeping into me. It was like the slow PMS build up again. What took three months to accumulate back home, only took an hour in New York.
Pushing the door open, I thrust myself from the car and looked around at the parking garage.
Bethi was just opening her door and eyed me up and down.
“Not good, huh?”
“No.”
“I thought you’d have this problem. You and Carlos should go take a walk in an alley or something. I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone willing to help you.”
I cracked my scabbed knuckles and glanced at Carlos, who was watching me over the roof of the car. After almost twenty-four hours, his eye was no longer swollen shut, but the discoloration remained.
“If you come with me, no fighting.”
He nodded.
“We’ll be back in a few,” I said to everyone and no one as I strode toward the parking garage exit. The man by the door nodded to Carlos as we left.
Outside, the cold air should have chilled me. It was a testament to what I contained that it didn’t. I breathed deeply of the metallic tang of exhaust and lengthened my stride until I jogged. Very few people paid us any attention. As the blocks melted away, the buildings took on a less polished appearance. I ducked into the first alley I found and slowed to a walk.
My breath puffed out, and I strained to listen as I walked from one end of the alley to the other. No one disturbed us. Stepping out onto the street, I looked for the next alley. It took twenty minutes to find what I wanted. Or, rather, for what I wanted to find me.
Two men stepped out of the shadows. Both had their hands in their pockets. Aggression oozed from their pores.
“Cash,” the one said.
“Sure, I’ll take some,” I said with a grin.
I shifted my weight as I struck out with a kick to the man’s knee. He surprised me by blocking with a downward thrust. We both pulled back and eyed each other. Meanwhile, his sidekick had moved nervously to the mouth of the alley. That was when I realized I was alone.
Crap. How had I lost Carlos? I needed to move this along so I could find the big guy.
“Why do you need the cash?” I asked.
Ethan would have shaken his head, but he would have understood. I needed to know I wasn’t kicking some down-on-his-luck dad who had starving quadruplets at home or something.
“Why do you need to know?”
His aggression hadn’t slipped to concern or desperation, so I knew there were no extenuating circumstances to prevent me from kicking his butt.
I let him have it.
* * * *
Fifteen minutes later, I found Carlos leaning against one of the buildings across the street. My knuckles were bruised and my foot sore, but it was nothing compared to what I’d done to the two men.
“Better?” he asked, eyeing me.
“Much.” But for how long?
“Want to run back?”
I nodded. I had a feeling I’d need to do a lot of running and hiding here.
We made it to the parking garage in less time than it took to find my marks. Bethi and Luke were a few feet back from the guard at the door. When they saw us, they spoke to him; and he buzzed us through.
“Come on. We’ll show you to your apartment.”
We followed Bethi up three flights of stairs and opened a heavy metal, yet nicely painted, door to a plush hallway.
“Here’s your key,” she said, handing it to me. “It’s for the third door on the left. If you keep walking, we’re around the corner a ways. Carlos has Luke’s number if you need anything.”
They left us just outside our door.
I shoved the key in the lock and turned the handle, opening the door to a spacious apartment. I did a quick walkthrough. Comfortable couch positioned in front of a huge TV. Treadmill behind the couch. Nice. Breakfast bar in the kitchen. Cupboards stocked with dishes and fridge loaded with food. Then, I walked down the short hall. Bathroom on the right. Bedroom on the left. That was it.
“One bedroom?” I said, staring at our bags, which were already on the bed.
“The rest are sharing two bedroom apartments. Jim is taking a couch in one and Sam a couch in another. They thought it would be easier if you were kept separate. Michelle said bigger apartments are harder to come by, especially short term.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” I said quickly. “Just observing.”
“Would you help me with the bandages? I think I’ll take a shower then go to sleep.”
“Sure.”
And right there in the hall, he tugged his polo shirt over his head. I’d seen his bare chest several times already. Yet seeing him take off his shirt was completely different. I loved the roll of his muscles as he moved. He turned his back to me.
Carefully, I peeled the tape back and removed the bandages. Scabs clung to the deep wounds; however, the lighter abrasions showed recently healed pink skin.
I ran my fingers gently over the marks, unable to believe how incredibly fast they were healing. It took a few seconds to realize he was holding still for me.
“Sorry. You’re all set.”
He nodded, grabbed his bag, and went into the bathroom. The water turned on, and I walked to the kitchen to open the fridge. Inside, I found fancy sandwich fixings, including croissants instead of bread. There was some type of green stuff in a jar and carved, seasoned turkey. In the crisper were avocado and sprouts. Shrugging, I slapped it all together then took a huge bite.
Carlos stepped out of the bathroom in time to catch my groan. He stopped to watch me.
“You have to try this,” I said after I swallowed.
I hurried to him and offered up my sandwich. His lips twitched then he took a bite.
“Whoa! Was that a facial expression?”
He chewed then swallowed.
“Almost. That was good. Is there more?”
“Sure. I’ll make you one.”
I walked away wondering why he’d almost smiled. Maybe he wasn’t used to people sharing food with him. After watching werewolves eat, I could understand why.
He disappeared into the bedroom with his bag and came back a minute later to sit at the island and watch me put together his sandwich.
“How is it in here?” he asked.
I knew he meant the emotions.
“Not bad. I don’t really feel too much of anything. A wisp of this or that every now and again. That’s it.” I slid the plate with the sandwich over to him and took another bite of mine. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”
“Charlene and Michelle are trying to find a way to contact that reporter, Penny, to set up a meeting. It won’t be tonight. Tonight we rest.”
Focusing on the sandwich, I considered the night ahead. Staying in for the evening wasn’t new to me. But usually I did it alone, and my idea of relaxing involved hitting the bag. I glanced at Carlos, eyed his multicolored face, and didn’t think he’d be up for that much fun. What exactly would two people do on an evening in? The first thought that came to mind had me blushing and turning away from him.
“Want to watch a movie?” I asked, walking over to the couch. I picked up the remote and surfed through the selection guide. “Oh, look. Werewolf in London is on.” Giving him a quick grin, I turned to that movie.
“I like your sense of humor,” he said, moving to sit beside me.
“Really? I can’t tell. You never let anything show.”
“Because you’re not ready.”
Sitting sideways, I gave him my full attention.
“Why did you say that?”
“I didn’t say it. You did.”
I recalled when I’d said those words—just before he’d been about to kiss me.
“Of course I’m not ready for that.” My face was never going to cool. “We barely know each other.”
“I disagree.”
“You think you know me?”
“I know that when you need a break from people, you become more snarky.”
“Snarky?”
“I read.”
I laughed.
“And,” he continued, “I know that when you start rolling your shoulders, someone’s about to face a beating. When you eat, you focus on one thing at a time until it’s gone. When you drink, you always lick the cup’s edge before setting it down.”
I did what?
“When you sleep, you curl on your side and tuck your hands under your cheek. When you’re upset, you say things you normally wouldn’t. When you fight, you hate hurting the other person…except the Urbat. You worry about the people around you and resent what you do to them. You think you need to be alone for the rest of your life and that scares you. You love stretchy clothes because you can move in them. You need to condition your hair in order to comb through it. You think makeup is a waste of time.”
“Stop. How can you possibly know all that?” He was right, of course, but how could he know?
“Because I pay attention, Isabelle. Because I care more than you can imagine.”
I stared at him for several heartbeats while everything he’d just said sank in.
“So, you do know me. And you think that makes us ready for what? Being engaged? Living happily ever after?”
“I think it makes us ready to see each other for what we really are.”
“And what are we?”
“Meant to be.”
His certainty thrilled and scared me.
“What if I don’t want what you want?”
“And what do you think I want?”
“Biting…running…mating.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“No, Isabelle. I just want you.”
My heart stumbled. Carlos was right, I was afraid of hurting him. My one attempt at a date stuck out in my mind. All it took was the thrill of a first touch, allowing myself to feel it, and I’d nearly killed the boy. Ethan had known the risk. He’d kissed me, but I’d never let myself feel anything. I couldn’t. It would have killed him.
But Carlos was different. I couldn’t pull emotions from him or push them into him. What would happen if I kissed him?
My pulse jumped as I considered it.
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” I said softly.
“I know you are. But you won’t.”
My imagination continued to explore the possibilities as my gaze drifted over his face, and my neck grew warm.
He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his pupils seemed a bit dilated.
“I’ve waited so long for that.”
“What?” I said, afraid I already knew the answer.
“Your desire.”
He stayed in his spot, his gaze devouring me. If he’d made a move toward me, I would have bolted or kicked him in the face. He was smart to wait me out.
“This is a stupid idea,” I said.
“It’s the best idea in the world.”
“What if I knock you out?”
“I’ll be the happiest, unconscious man ever.”
“Gah!” I turned my head away but didn’t get up. Why was I fighting this internal battle? Was I fighting what I felt for him, just for the sake of fighting? Didn’t I want to know something more than that? Didn’t I want to have someone I could spend my life with? I rubbed my face in frustration. I didn’t want someone; I wanted Carlos.
With a slow exhale, I swallowed hard then turned to look at him again. Yep, he was still there, watching me with the same lack of expression. My stomach twisted and flipped at the sight of him.
Wiping my hands on my leggings, I gathered my courage and moved to kneel beside him. I wasn’t imagining the change in his pupils because, as I stared, they grew larger. I inched toward him. My hands shook, and I felt lightheaded. What was I doing? How could I risk this? Him?
Carefully, I set my right hand on his left shoulder. He shuddered at the contact. My heart started to hammer, and I withdrew my hand.
In a quick move, he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me up and over so I was straddling his lap. Both my hands rested on his shoulders as I stared down at him with wide eyes.
Despite the shaking, his expression, though intense, remained void of any emotion.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, unable to go further without knowing.
“I’m trying to think of what I can say, what I can promise you to get you to finish what you’ve started.”
His desperation made my lips curve and eased some of my tension. I was still in control.
“And what did I start?”
His fingers twitched at my waist.
“Just kiss me already, Isabelle.”
Nervousness at hearing him say it aloud had me wondering if he’d let me escape. As I stared into his deep brown eyes, I realized I didn’t want to run. I wanted to stay. I wanted to try. Slowly, I reached up and set my hands along his jaw. His pulse jumped under my fingertips, and the shaking grew more pronounced. Mindful of his bruises, I lightly ran my fingers over his stubble. He held still, letting me explore the arch of his brow, the slight bump on his nose, and the curve of his bottom lip.
My pulse raced as I traced my finger over his mouth once more. What would it feel like to press my lips to his? I desperately wanted to know. I leaned in, watching him as I closed the distance between us.
An inch from his lips, I paused and tried to control what I felt. I didn’t want to drain him.
Carefully, I brushed my mouth lightly across his. A zing of excitement and need ripped through me, and I quickly pulled away to check him. His eyes immediately popped open. The pupils were extremely dilated, but very much human.
Reassured, I dipped my head down to try again. Setting my lips against his, I explored the warmth and texture of his skin. I nibbled at his fuller bottom lip, and a faint growl rumbled in his chest. His hands, still curled around my waist, gripped me more firmly when I opened my mouth and licked his lip.
He didn’t stop me or take over. He continued to let me explore one little nip and lick at a time. My skin tingled but not in the negative way I’d grown so used to. Finally, I pulled back and gave him a tentative smile.
When he opened his eyes, the pupils were far too large for his face.
“Does this mean you’re ready?” His voice was rough, deep, and hard to understand, and each word he spoke exposed his elongated canines.
I swallowed hard and slowly shook my head. Whatever he was ready for, I definitely was not.
“Too bad,” he said a moment before he had me on my back, his weight pressing me into the couch.
Before I could inhale a decent breath to tell him to get off, he buried his face in the curve of my neck. His tongue traced a wet path up to the little dip below my ear. I shivered and gripped his shoulders. His teeth scraped my skin there, and a rather girly sigh escaped me.
“Carlos, wait,” I said on another breathy exhale.
His tongue blazed a trail back down to my collarbone, played there for a bit, then traced its way up the other side of my neck. By the time he nibbled that side, I was panting. He left my neck and pulled back enough to look down at me.
“Bite me, Isabelle.”
Like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, his words brought clarity to what we were doing.
“It’s time for you to get off me,” I said, giving his shoulders a slight push.
He dropped his forehead to my chest.
Why did that cause a burst of heat inside me?
“Seriously. Up now.” I pushed his shoulders again, with very little effect. He wasn’t ready to stop. I needed to make him.
“I’m going to start pulling and won’t stop until I have enough strength to push you off me. Is that what you want?”
He lifted himself off me, stood, then stiffly left the apartment.
I watched the rest of the movie alone.
* * * *
After taking a very long, hot shower, I sat on the couch and brushed my hair while I contemplated if I should go and find Carlos. I didn’t think he’d been mad when he’d left. Annoyed, maybe. Disappointed, most likely. But not mad. What was the point of tracking him down, then? I wasn’t ready to pick up where we’d left off.
Yet, a small part of me continued to wonder if I was wrong, and that he really was upset with me.
I tossed the brush aside and drew my legs to my chest. I recalled our kiss and blushed at the memory. I had allowed myself to feel every wonderful emotion and nothing bad had happened. If Ethan were here…I sighed. He would be happy for me, happy that I wouldn’t need to spend my life alone. Well, if Carlos ever came back.
I was just about to get up and wander around the apartment when a key slid into the lock. I stood quickly and watched as Carlos opened the door. His gaze immediately found mine.
The worry I’d harbored surged forward as he eased the door closed behind him and stood still, watching me.
“Are you mad?” I asked.
“Why would I be mad?”
I shrugged, unwilling to speak my doubts if there wasn’t a reason.
He inhaled deeply.
“You’re worried.” Slowly, he approached me. “I’ve smelled your anger, your amusement, your annoyance, and even your fear, though it was brief. I’ve never smelled worry on you like this. What’s causing it?”
I’d worked in an office full of women. Not only had they oozed their emotions, they’d also talked about their moods endlessly. It was as if feeling all of that emotion wasn’t enough. They had to talk about it, and I had to listen, too. I wasn’t about to turn into a female like that.
“Just thinking about tomorrow.”
He tilted his head and studied me.
“Do you lie because you don’t trust me with the truth or because…” He inhaled deeply again. “You’re uncomfortable.”
“You keep sniffing my emotions like that, and I’m going to punch you in the nose.”
“Fair enough. Are you ready for bed?”
I nodded hesitantly.
“Are you going to make me sleep on this very short couch?”
I glanced at the couch. It wasn’t that short. Well, for me, anyway. Carlos would need to curl up a little. But if I was honest, I didn’t want him on the couch, so I shook my head.
He held out his hand, and I took it. Turning off the lights as we went, he led me to the bedroom. There, he let go of my hand and moved to fold down the covers. When he looked over his shoulder at me, I still hovered in the doorway, watching him. I wondered what he was up to. Did he think sharing the bed meant I was ready to pick up where we’d left off?
He motioned for me to get in bed.
Setting aside my concern, I crossed the room. Once I was settled, he covered me like a child, placed a kiss on my forehead, then turned off the light. In the dark, I listened to him walk around the bed. He lay on top of the covers, yet against me, and draped an arm over my waist.
“Goodnight, Isabelle.”
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
I listened to his breathing for a while, still thinking about the reason he’d left.
“I don’t share feelings; I steal them.”
Carlos remained quiet behind me.
“When I was thirteen, a boy asked me on a date. I liked him and knew from what he was feeling that he liked me too, so I said yes. I nearly killed him when I held his hand.
“Ethan was there. He pulled the boy away from me. Probably saved his life. But Ethan and I both knew after that…I couldn’t be with anyone. So, I never tried. I had Ethan, and he was enough. He was my first kiss. He tricked me, took me by surprise. I was terrified and wouldn’t let myself feel anything. I think he knew, and it made him feel even more sorry for me. I’ve always loved Ethan, but not the way he wanted because I couldn’t.”
I wiggled under the covers, turning myself so I faced Carlos.
“The things you’re asking for, I’ve never considered. I don’t understand relationships. They scare the hell out of me. And the idea of a relationship with you is even scarier. I have no clue what you’re thinking because I don’t know what you’re feeling. We kissed. Then when I asked you to stop, you walked out the door without a word.”
He reached up and gently ran a finger along my jaw.
“I left because if I had stayed, I would have kept kissing you. The idea of a relationship is new to both of us. I’ll work on sharing what I’m feeling with words. And you can work on just letting yourself feel.”
I sighed, letting my tension drift away, then nodded and closed my eyes.
“Isabelle?”
“Yeah?” I said, opening my eyes again.
“I want to kiss you goodnight.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t go for my forehead, as expected, but settled his lips against mine. My pulse leapt, and I reached for his bicep. I almost pushed him away but stopped myself. Relax, I thought. Let go. Slowly, I did.
His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I opened my mouth. He started to shake as he pressed deeper, playing with my tongue. Then, just as quick as the kiss started, it ended. He pulled back, kissed my forehead, and rested his chin on the crown of my head. I stared at the column of his throat. Dark whiskers already started to poke through the skin. I moved closer and rubbed my lips against the rough texture. Lying as we were, curled around each other, felt right…yet so alien.
Sighing, I closed my eyes.
* * * *
I wore Carlos like a blanket. Sweat slicked every inch of exposed skin. Mine and his. At some point during the night, the whole sleeping on top of the blankets thing had disappeared. Along with his shirt. I didn’t mind the missing shirt, though. I loved his corded chest. The sweat I could live without. The air, I couldn’t.
“Too close,” I said against his throat.
He growled at me like a dog defending its chew toy.
“Can’t breathe,” I said.
He gave me an inch. Cool air caressed my face, and I took a large breath. His arms, one over my waist and the other tucked under me, held me prisoner. Somehow, I knew he did not intend to let me go any time soon. That was bad news. I had to pee.
His lips brushed my temple.
“Good morning, Isabelle.”
“Good morning. Uh, can I get up and go to the bathroom?”
His arms loosened around me. I lifted my head and stared at the ebony orbs that had replaced his human eyes.
“Everything all right?”
He nodded. When he blinked, some of the white of his eyes returned.
Unsure what it meant, I chose to pretend I hadn’t noticed and slipped from the bed. I grabbed my bag on the way to the bathroom. I needed a shower badly. It wasn’t until I stood under the hot spray that I realized how relaxed I felt. As if I hadn’t absorbed a thing overnight, which was odd since I’d felt wisps of emotion the night before.
As I shampooed, I tentatively opened myself to what might be around me. I immediately felt the neighbor’s anxiety and closed myself off again. The emotions were still there. Weird.
I conditioned my hair and grabbed the razor I’d set on the ledge of the tub. By the time I finished with the forest on my legs, the blade was dull. How long had it been since I’d shaved? Since before Ethan died. I lifted my arm.
“I am so gross,” I mumbled, lifting the razor.
Why on earth would anyone be attracted to me? Most days I wasn’t even attracted to myself.
Yet, since Carlos had laid eyes on me, he’d made his attraction very clear. What did he see in me? I shook my head, ran the blade under the water, and set it aside to rinse my hair. Whatever it was, I hoped I didn’t lose it. I didn’t like the idea of losing Carlos.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I smelled breakfast. I carried the bag with me to the kitchen. Carlos manned the stove, moving a pan back and forth over the burner. With a quick jerk and toss, he flipped the omelet in the air.
“Hey, do you think this place has a washer and dryer?”
“They’re in the closet right behind the entry door.”
I glanced around the room and saw the double door closet in the living room. And sure enough, a washer and dryer waited inside. On the shelf above them, I saw a bottle of detergent and a box of dryer sheets. I started tossing the dirty items from my bag into the washer.
“Do you have anything you need washed?” I asked over my shoulder.
“I’ll add my clothes when we’re done eating.”
I closed the lid and set the bag on the shelf before I joined him in the kitchen. He had two plates out on the counter along with orange juice and silverware.
“Any word from anyone else?”
“Most everyone is awake. Charlene reached Penny. According to Grey, it was a tense conversation. There’s some kind of history between the two, but Charlene isn’t saying much. Regardless, Penny has agreed to meet with Charlene to hear what she has to say.”
“Just Charlene?” I asked, sitting at the breakfast bar.
“No. We will all go.”
“What time?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
He turned, and I was surprised to note his bruising had completely faded. His skin was once again smooth and unblemished. As I studied him, he eased half the omelet onto my plate and the other half onto his. When he lifted his gaze to mine, I quickly looked at my plate and sniffed appreciatively.
“What’s all in here?”
“Ham, mushrooms, onions, and cheese.” He sat beside me.
I cut into the egg, watched the steam rise, and decided to wait a minute. Carlos took a bite right away.
“So what are the plans for today, then?”
“No plans.”
“Do you still want me to bite you?” I said.
Carlos froze mid-chew.
I was equally shocked. Where in the hell had that come from? Stupid hairy legs and self-doubt. It must have been eating at my subconscious. Hot or not, I forked a large bite of eggs into my mouth and then another bite while I prayed Carlos would move or say something before I choked myself on eggs.
He swallowed—it looked difficult—set his fork aside, then turned to face me.
“Why do you ask?”
I shrugged as I chewed and swallowed my mouthful.
“I just wanted to know if you changed your mind yet.”
“I won’t. Ever. If you’re ready, so am I.” He paused and studied me. “Are you ready?”
“I don’t know. What exactly does being engaged to a werewolf mean? For humans, the guy gives the girl a ring, and if she gets pissed, she can chuck it at his head and tell him to get lost. What’s the point of the bite?”
“Do you want a ring?”
“Gah, no!”
The idea of Carlos getting down on bended knee freaked me out way more than me biting him.
We stared at each other while I waited for him to say something.
“The bite is more permanent than a ring. And when you get angry, there’s nothing for you to throw at my head.”
“Probably a good thing,” I said.
“Probably.”
He sighed, and a hint of frustration showed in his face. Before I could see if it was directed at me, he spoke.
“Grey wants to know if we can join the group.”
I nodded and quickly devoured my eggs. Carlos likewise cleared his plate. I found myself staring at his throat as he tilted his head back to drain his orange juice. He set the glass on the counter and looked at me.
“You don’t need permission,” he said.
“For what?”
“To bite me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
I stood and took his empty plate to the sink with my own.
