An overcast, but dry, Sunday marked the end of our fifth week of freedom. My energetic brothers raced outside just after breakfast. As usual, they left the door open behind them. I didn’t follow this time. Instead, I finished some last minute research while waiting for the actual premonition.
When I heard Emmitt’s door open across the hall, I perked up but didn’t look away from the tablet. So I wasn’t surprised when he spoke from my doorway.
“Good morning.”
I swiveled on the stool and smiled at him. “Morning.”
He leaned against the doorframe. His wet hair lay in disarray as he slowly blinked at me.
“Didn’t you sleep well?”
He shrugged. “Coming down for breakfast?”
I looked at him in surprise. Usually he already knew if we’d eaten. I figured his sense of smell helped with that. Granted, we’d eaten cereal this morning, which I didn’t consider very aromatic, but the bowls still sat next to the sink.
He caught my glance at the dishes and smiled self-depreciatively. “Sorry. I’ll see you downstairs.”
Watching the empty doorway an extra moment after he left, I wondered if he wasn’t feeling well. I glanced at the clock. Twenty more minutes to kill.
While surfing the web to fill the time, I came across the video of Richard’s death and more speculation regarding the dog. I avoided the video but read the articles. In one, the author noted the disappearance of Richard’s beneficiary. It gave me pause. Was that the point of the lawyer?
I checked my email and saw a reply not nearly as brief as my query. Sawyer Nolan introduced himself as Richard’s attorney and, after offering his condolences, asked me to come to his office to discuss the will. He mentioned needing to coordinate with Mr. Blake Torrin regarding the date and time. That meeting was not going to happen.
I closed the email and worried at my thumbnail with my teeth. The latest stock tip popped into my head before I decided what to do about the email.
Notes in hand, I ambled downstairs and peeked out at the boys and Jim who played in the backyard. Barefoot, they splashed in the puddles from the day before. All three waved at me. Tonight my brothers would need baths. I waved back then went to find Nana Wini in her kitchen. She was making Emmitt breakfast.
“Did your friend, Sam, call already?” I asked, putting the papers on the table and sitting next to Emmitt. His eyes followed my moves. I couldn’t put my finger on what felt different about his gaze, but it made me edgy.
Nana turned away from the pan and gave me a kind look. “Yes, we discussed your gift, though, and feel that it shouldn’t be used. He thanked you for your help so far but will research on his own from now on.”
With the ticker still stuck on repeat in my head, panic surged. “But, you can’t—”
She shook her head. “We can. We won’t use you. But, I did hear what you said about the pain. You can still give the information to me,” she said indicating the papers on the table with the spatula in her hand. “I will read it so you won’t suffer, then I’ll destroy it.”
I couldn’t believe they would do that. Give up the information and power. I felt lighter, freer, and relieved.
“By the way, there are a few people coming today who’d like to meet you,” Nana said turning back to the stove, missing my shattered expression at her words. “They should be here in about an hour.”
She plated a heap of food and passed it to Emmitt. Though Nana didn’t catch my initial expression, Emmitt had. He watched me closely.
“What people?” Please don’t let it be men.
“They are from the Compound in Canada. Friends of Jim and Emmitt’s parents. They are coming down with their sons to meet you and your brothers,” she said.
Sons.
“Why are they coming?”
Nana shared a look with Emmitt. I caught the barest shake of his head before he focused on his plate and started to eat. Nana sighed at him.
“We thought it would be good to start exposing you to more of our kind whom you can trust.”
“And who decides who’s trustworthy?” I could feel my temper starting to simmer.
Nana tilted her head, studying me. Her nostrils flared slightly. Wisely, she remained quiet.
Was I overreacting? I just didn’t know. I revealed everything to them, and suddenly friends of Emmitt’s parents were bringing their sons to meet us.
“I’m sorry, Nana, but I don’t feel like good company today.”
Leaving them at the table, I went outside to the boys.
“Jim, may I have the truck keys?” I didn’t wait for his answer but looked at the boys. “Want to go into town and see a movie in a movie theater?”
Their eyes lit at the prospect of it.
Using the tablet, I memorized the directions to the theater while the boys washed up. No one tried to stop us from leaving, but all three stood on the porch, watching me back out.
Not having driven since Jim’s lesson, I didn’t execute the Y turn to back away from the porch as smoothly as I would have liked. Almost quitting then, I scolded myself for being a stubborn control freak and inched my way down the driveway.
Aden and Liam talked excitedly as they sat buckled into their booster seats. What was I thinking? This wasn’t safe. I drove like crap, hated big crowds, and had very little money left to live off. Would it kill me to stay and say hi to whoever Nana had coming over? No, but if I didn’t put my foot down and keep it down, I feared becoming a pawn again.
The drive took longer than I expected. Liam and Aden were antsy to leave the truck and see the theater by the time I parked.
They stood beside me, holding my hands, while I studied the movies listed. The first movie didn’t start for over forty minutes. I wished I’d been smart enough to check the show times online before we’d left.
I looked around, wondering what to do. The crowd shuffling by us on the sidewalk made me twitchy. I didn’t want to spend forty minutes just standing in the open.
Across the street, I spotted an ice cream shop just opening.
Four scoops and three cones later, we happily stood in line for the movie. Despite the ice cream we’d consumed at the shop, we were laden with the prerequisite popcorn and slushies. Aden bounced on the tips of his toes in anticipation.
When I glanced down to smile at him, a reflection in the glass panel of the ticketing booth caught my attention. A man stood outlined in the door behind us, the pane of glass separating us. His complete motionless in the shifting foot traffic stood out. I turned fully to see him, not just his reflection. When I did, he looked up at the marquee above his head for a moment then moved on. Perhaps he’d just been looking at the movie listings.
Aden tugged me forward as our theater’s doors opened.
The laughter in a theater full of children melted some of my worry. It wasn’t until I was struggling with Aden’s buckle in the truck almost two hours later that I noticed the man, again. He leaned against the side of a beat up old car and had an elbow casually resting on the roof as he watched me.
When I looked directly at him, he winked at me. Something about him just hit me as off. Giving up on the buckle, I started the truck and pulled out, hands shaking. It didn’t help my driving.
He stayed leaning against the car, watching. I watched his shrinking form in the mirrors. He never moved.
I kept an eye on the mirrors as I drove. The man had intentionally brought himself to my notice. Why? I hadn’t recognized him and nothing about him said werewolf. So, I didn’t think I needed to worry about that possibility. He’d just been creepy. Still, I looked back every few minutes.
The mirror stayed clear all the way home. I was relieved to pull into the driveway and find Emmitt waiting for us on the porch steps.
However, with my concern over the movie man, I’d forgotten about the company that had sent me running in the first place. An extra vehicle was in the truck’s usual spot. I parked next to the garage and helped the boys out. They immediately ran for the house, saying they wanted to tell Jim about the huge TV, not understanding the difference between a television and the movie theater.
When I closed the passenger door and turned, Emmitt stood behind me, waiting. His eyes studied every inch of my face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, worried.
Behind him, Nana and two adults stepped onto the porch. I tried to keep the disdain from my face when I glanced at them. I wasn’t ready to play nice, yet.
“Mary and Gregory were planning on staying the night,” he said with little emotion. “Can I sleep on your couch?”
If I said no, would they go back to Canada? Maybe. But Emmitt on the couch didn’t sound like such a bad idea after some creepy guy had winked at me. I nodded.
He held out his hand. I clasped it loosely, and he led me to the group on the porch.
The woman had neat brown hair a shade lighter than my own. She watched our progress with expressive brown eyes. The man, who stood beside her, towered over her diminutive frame. I couldn’t decide if the woman was unusually short or if werewolves’ heights were as diverse as humans. So far, they’d all been tall, but other than Nana, they’d all been men. The man’s hazel eyes flicked to Emmitt’s hand holding mine and then up to my face. I felt judged with that glance.
As we walked up the steps, Emmitt introduced them. “Michelle, this is Mary and her husband Gregory.”
Husband, not Mate? Were they human?
“Nice to meet you,” I said flatly, using the same tone I had hundreds of times before for the standard greeting at Blake’s dinners.
“I doubt it,” Mary said with a grin, “but I don’t blame you. We’re the long distance version of nosy neighbors. Our sons, Paul and Henry, are inside with Jim. Your brothers are adorable.”
The adorable duo ran out the door just then, making a beeline for the swing set and calling for Jim as they went.
“Energetic,” she added with a laugh.
With ice cream, slushies, and popcorn in their systems, they probably needed real food to counteract their obvious sugar jag.
“I better go and make them some lunch,” I said to excuse myself.
Emmitt didn’t relinquish my hand.
“I’ll come with,” he said.
Jim walked out the door. Two boys close to my age trailed behind him. They grinned at me, said hi, and followed Jim to the swing set, standing back to watch him interact with my brothers. I hadn’t expected the sons to be so young. None of Blake’s associates had been my age. Still not sure what I dealt with, human vs. werewolf, I hesitated to leave my brothers outside.
Emmitt seemed to read my concern.
“Jim, can you send them up in a few minutes to eat?”
Jim waved acknowledgement, and I let Emmitt lead me inside.
Our company stayed downstairs when Jim came up several minutes later. He took a huge bite from Aden’s proffered sandwich, and I shook my head, guessing at the reason for his personal escort.
I tried to talk the boys into games upstairs, but they wouldn’t hear of it and tore back downstairs as soon as they finished. Food gone, Jim followed them. Emmitt helped with the cleanup.
“My parents sent Gregory and Mary down,” he said as he wiped down the counter.
I paused putting away the lunchmeat, giving him my full attention.
“They can’t leave the Compound themselves and were curious about the girl who has captured their son’s attention.”
“Why couldn’t you tell me that before?” I asked in mild exasperation.
He didn’t answer right away, so I tossed the jar in the fridge and turned to him with my arms crossed.
“I didn’t want you to worry about meeting them.”
“When Nana said people were coming, bringing their sons, I thought it was going to be like Blake’s all over again.” I swallowed hard and looked away from him.
“No,” he growled. “How many times do I have to tell you?” He backed me against the counter.
“You. Are. Mine.”
His knuckles brushed my neck as he moved my hair aside, and he leaned forward, lips running along my jaw.
At first contact, my heart thundered painfully and heat burst in my chest, radiating outward. I reached up, fisting my hands in his short hair. It was just long enough to grip.
I wanted to pull him closer, to move beyond this limbo stage. Instead, I tugged him back by his hair. He didn’t move at first.
“Emmitt, stop. I can’t think like this.”
He pulled back. The pupils of his eyes swallowed the midnight blue of his irises. The tips of two sharp teeth poked out from under his upper lip, drawing my attention to his mouth. I’d stared at his chest plenty, but never really his lips. I blinked slowly. What would it feel like to have them pressed against mine? I wanted…
“Do it,” he whispered.
“What?” I breathed out the word, my gaze flying to his. Blood rushed to my face, and I nudged him back. He sighed and gave me room. Not much, but I could think again.
“Nothing.” He gently brushed his fingertips along my collarbone. “I’m going to check on the boys.”
I nodded and watched him leave, wondering how long Gregory and Mary would be staying and what kind of report they would take back to Emmitt’s parents.
I spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in my apartment, too chicken to find out the answer to either of those questions.
Emmitt came back hours later and convinced me to join everyone for a picnic dinner. Liam and Aden sat near Paul and Henry, a new sheen of hero worship in their eyes. We lingered at the table after they ran off to play.
Mary asked me how I liked living at the house. The innocent enough question felt like a graded essay. Did his parents disapprove of me living in the same house? Should I say it made me uncomfortable? No. They would sense the lie. I weighed my choices and finally settled on admitting the truth; I felt safe there. She smiled kindly and asked if I’d given any thought to the future. I looked at Emmitt helplessly.
“We should probably go up and get everything ready for tonight,” he said, standing and rescuing me. I followed his lead and started gathering plates to help clean up. “Paul and Henry can crash at Jim’s,” he continued. “You’re welcome to use my place.”
Mary nodded her thanks as I made my escape inside.
Emmitt and I worked together, quietly putting condiments away in Jim’s fridge, then headed upstairs.
Sensing my mood, Emmitt put in a movie and steered me to the couch with a stern order to relax. He came in once during the middle of the movie with a pillow and a light blanket, which he set on the couch in anticipation of his overnight stay.
I woke in the middle of the night, heart hammering from my vivid dream. The man from town had tracked us, and I’d watched as he had scaled the outside of the house to reach the third floor. He’d had vicious, sharp teeth. Not just his canines, but all of them. As he’d walked around the porch, he had dragged his nails along the siding, making a terrible screeching noise.
Throwing off the covers, I got up to close the window. The cool night air felt nice, but a mere screen separating me from the outside world didn’t feel very safe. I tiptoed to the boys’ room and closed their windows, too. It was cool enough in the house, anyway, because of the recent rain.
When I reached the living room, I paused. I’d forgotten about Emmitt. His dark form sprawled on the couch. In the dim light, I caught the glint of his eyes and knew he was awake and watching me.
“Bad dream,” I said quietly.
He sat up and opened his arms in invitation.
Still shivering from the image of the man scaling the porches, I quickly went to him. I sat on the couch and leaned into his side, resting my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me.
“Go to sleep.”
I liked that he didn’t ask me to share the dream. Talking about it would make it too real and harder to sleep again. His warmth eventually relaxed me, and I curled into him, getting more comfortable.
Werewolves made comfy beds, I thought sleepily. He kissed the top of my head, and I slept.
