Legacy

Chapter Twenty Four - Call to Him

Eileen went to bed plotting, and she woke up plotting. It wasn’t that she liked disobeying orders—sometimes she could follow them, if they worked with her plans—but she knew she could be useful. She couldn’t bear the thought of her brother and father fighting out there without Eileen even knowing what was going on.

Sure, they’d said she could watch, but the border was large and they could be stationed anywhere. There was also a possibility that without her and Gray, they’d be stretched just thin enough to make an impact.

An impact that could allow hunters to kill them.

Eileen felt a presence in her room, and she cracked an eye open marginally, just to gauge the light: way too early. Apparently Gray was taking this whole guarding her thing seriously, since the hunters could come at any time.

Didn’t mean he had to come into her bedroom in the morning.

She thought back to Evan’s house, when she’d woken to find Gray sleeping on top of her. Now that she thought back, he’d been in wolf form when he was collapsed over her feet: she wondered what had caused that. Another mystery to his peculiar allergy.

He climbed onto the bed. Eileen couldn’t tell if he was wolf or man, and she was too tired and relaxed to open her eyes and found out.

Surely he was uncomfortable with leaving his pack without a leader: it might be easy to convince him to leave with her to help the others out. His weight shifted, and soon he spread himself out against her side. Maybe he was perfectly fine staying here, then.

Gently but firmly, his hand wrapped around her upper arm. She felt cloth: maybe he’d wrapped his hand from some injury dealt by the hunters Eileen hadn’t noticed? All the same, he’d crawled into bed and was touching her. “Gray,” she muttered, mostly as a warning. He was going to drastically unnecessary lengths to keep her home.

Soothing her, his hand rubbed against her skin. Inhaling, Eileen realized she’d never be able to sink back into sleep while plotting and trying to figure out Gray’s plans.

His hand slid toward her shoulder.

Frowning into her pillow, Eileen gave him the benefit of the doubt; perhaps he intended to give her a shoulder massage?

His touch was light as it continued to her neck. Eileen’s breathing became unsteady as she grabbed at reasons. Maybe he was looking for where he’d bit her? But that had been ages ago: the mark had faded long before now.

In an instant, Gray’s hand tightened around her neck and another slapped over her mouth as she greedily took in oxygen and thought to scream. Her eyes flew open and her limbs flailed, trying to push him off the side of the bed, and she noticed the hands did not belong to Gray. Someone else was in her room, someone she didn’t recognize.

She knew by the way he struggled slightly to hold her he wasn’t a werewolf: that meant he had to be hunter. In the dim room Eileen struggled to catch his features: brown eyes, crooked nose, scarred flesh. A leering grin as he kept his grip on her neck.

A low growl slid between Eileen’s teeth as she continued to fight, twisting underneath him. If she could get the momentum, she’d roll until he let go of her. Finally, one good kick from her left leg had him faltering enough for Eileen to push him away. Her feet hit the floor, and she lunged for the door, forgetting the basic rule: always make sure the enemy is dead.

As he wasn’t, his arm swung forward to knock her knees out from under her. She fell to the floor with a slight cry, knowing they would be bruised.

Once again, his hand caught her by the neck, hoisting her into the air. This time she didn’t even have enough oxygen to breathe. Her fingers pried at his grip to no avail and she understood why she’d felt cloth: his hands were gloved.