~Chapter Twenty-Three: Bad Choices~
I nearly drop my bowl of cereal when the sound of a mechanical baby's laughter comes from somewhere behind me. If there is some kind of demonic Terminator baby on my counter, I am running like hell, I tell myself as I push away from the counter and spin on my heels.
To be great embarrassment, it is not a demonic robot baby; it is my cell phone. "Heather," I growl in a low voice. Just because she changed my ringtone to the creepiest thing possible, it does not mean I am willing to wake her up. She is currently asleep upstairs and while I would much rather be talking to her before she leaves in a couple of hours, I am not suicidal. To stop the ringing, I flip it open without checking the number. "Hello?"
"Why is it that I only just now found out Mr. Voclain left town?"
Ah, Dylan.
"Because you're losing your touch?" I suggest lightly before leaving the kitchen and going outside. Too much talking will probably wake her up and I do not need her joining whatever this conversation is about. "Is that all you want?"
Dylan grumbles something too fast for me to catch, but it sounds very close to 'stupid cat'. "First," he starts, and I groan, "why didn't you tell me he was leaving?"
"You'd assume that he was leaving for good. Well, he's not. Our deal is still in effect, but he is just visiting his family while Heather is here," I explain before adding, "And now I owe him a favor, despite it all being for naught since Diego told her all about it."
"I told him to. I figured she had the right to know. If you had told me you didn't want her to know, she would still be in the dark," Dylan objects.
What annoys me the most is that the stupid wolf is right. "What else?" I demand, wanting to move on before he can continue to point out more of the terrible choices I made. "Actually, wait. My turn. Why do you hate Ryland so much?"
There is a significant pause on the other end as my friend considering his answer. As it turns out, he was considering something, but not his answer. "You say that as if you don't hate him," Dylan accuses, his voice becoming tight. "What happened to the I-want-him-gone Cade?"
Now it is my turn to hesitate. "I got to know him," I mumble. He snorts on the other end, which makes my anger flare up. "You never answered my question. Why do you hate him? It was your idea to let him stay, remember?"
"Yeah, the mistake of the century. I thought you'd turn him down the second you found out. You weren't supposed to make a deal with him," Dylan counters, his voice rising as well.
"I didn't have a choice! And why did you want me to turn him down? Is it because he's a guy?" I snap, defending Ryland for reasons unknown. I should not be defending the lion, but arguing with Dylan is more important.
Dylan makes a noise of protest, "That has nothing to do with it. It's because he's a lion. Even a Fae would be better...okay, no, they aren't better, but they are almost on the same level of terrible."
"Level of terrible? Really?" I snort, my anger fading, but only a little. "Besides, it's not like he's going to kill me or anything. He couldn't if he tried."
"Why is that?" Dylan asks cautiously, and if we were in the same room, he would be eyeing me.
"He activated his side of the mating bond," I admit. While I am not all that keen to let Dylan know this, if I do not tell him and he finds out some other way...well, our friendship has already been strained by all this and I would rather not hurt him more by not telling him. Silence stretches out between us. "You still there?"
When he does not immediately reply, I hold the phone away from my ear to make sure neither of us accidentally hung up. However, that does not appear to be the case. Suddenly, there is a loud clatter on the other end that sounds like someone picking it up. How come I didn't hear him put it down? "Pack a bag. The second your sister leaves, I expect you on my doorstep," Dylan says, his voice practically radiating power. I can feel the power even through the phone.
Too bad for him, cats are immune. "He's not even here, Alpha," I scoff, using his favorite nickname in hopes of soothing his little wolfy ego.
A mocking tone and soothing words apparently should not be used in the same sentence. "Cade, I'm serious. If you don't drive straight here, I'll come get you myself," Dylan threatens, very far from soothed.
"Okay, now you're just being an idiot," I snarl. Counting to ten in my head, I try to keep myself from mentally strangling him. When that fails to work, I try hitting my head against the stone entryway. "Ryland won't be back until Monday night. I'll stop by if it makes you feel any better, but I'm not spending the night. I have too much homework to do."
Another long silence follows, but I can hear him breathing, assuring me that he has not disappeared again. "Fine, but don't you realize how dangerous this is?" Dylan asks, trying to convince me. I barely resist the urge to snort.
"It's only dangerous because you keep getting in his way and then I have to get between you two to stop the fight of the century," I argue, before snapping my phone shut. I am about to put it into my back pocket when I remember why I nearly had a heart attack this morning. Deleting the offending ringtone from my phone, I set it back to vibrate before entering the house with the intention of returning to my now-soggy cereal, which I will soon be dumping down the drain.
"That was quite the conversation," my sister says as I try to close the door quietly behind me. Though, since she is awake, I just slam the door closed like I normally would, making her wince.
She is leaning against the entryway wall, keeping me from going into my living room. "What do you want?" I ask, rubbing my face to keep from snapping at her, too. I really hate having to argue with Dylan, especially when the argument remains unresolved. However, that does not mean I am willing to just let it go.
"Nothing," she confesses, turning to give me room to pass. Doing just that, I turn into the kitchen and dump my cereal out. Normally I would at least try to finish it, soggy or not, but my appetite has diminished after that phone call and now I just want to do something that will occupy my mind.
Much to my relief, Heather seems to have caught onto that. "Monopoly or Stratego?" She asks, holding up the two board games when I exit the kitchen.
"Monopoly," I answer immediately. Strategy games in the early morning would be a bad idea, but Monopoly is best at any time of the day. Plus, no one will ever play with me, making me long for an opponent. "I call the cowboy."
- - - - - - -
"Where are you?" Dylan demands through the phone, which is being pressed to my ear by my shoulder.
I take a turn into one of the residential areas of town, one that has more townhouses than actual homes. From what I understand, most of these buildings are owned and rented out for a period of time while the owners are away to allow them to be paid while on vacation. Dylan told me this is quite common this time of year, though he never explained why. This isn't exactly skiing season, after all.
"I'm just taking a quick detour. There's this guy I need to talk to about something and he leaves town in a couple of days," I explain, attention focused on the street numbers as I try to find he number Evan gave me. 1068...1070...
There is a sigh on the other end, "How long?"
"Uh, depends on what this guy tells me," I mumble before snorting when I see the reindeer Christmas decorations that decorate the lawn of 1082-1084, the townhouse I am looking for. Maybe they aren't such terrible hunters. They managed to find the one house in the entire neighborhood with deer decorations.
"Well, hurry up," Dylan says before the line goes dead. I pull up to the curb in front of the house and turn off my Jeep. As I get out, I slip my phone into my pocket before taking a deep breath and walking towards the front door. I had originally planned to go with Ryland when he returned, but I called Evan after dropping Heather off at the airport and he said he would be leaving Tuesday morning to return to California.
Before I can even knock on the door, it swings inward to reveal Evan. There is a weak smile on his face, which suggests he is more nervous than I am, even though he has no need to be. In the hallway behind him, one of his hunting buddies passes from one room to another, only to backtrack when he sees me in the doorway. It is the guy with the angry wife, the one whose name I either never got, or fail to remember.
"Oh, you're the guy from the cabin," he says, clearly surprised by my presence here and Evan turns to look at him. Someone shouts 'dad' from upstairs and the man sighs, turning back the way he came. "Coming, honey!"
Evan raises an eyebrow at his friend, but he is already out of sight. The human seems to realize that I am still standing on the porch and quickly steps out of the way, gesturing for me to enter. He leads me into what I believe is the living room, which is barely bigger than mine with less furniture. I take a seat in the only chair while he sits on one of the two couches, leaning forward with his hands clasped at his knees.
"You were the black panther, right?" He asks suddenly, and I look at him with masked concern.
"What makes you think that?" I inquire, unwilling to give anything away until I know just how much he understands about us. He is clearly not of any species I know about other than human and from the way he seems to be guessing, he is not a god – as some 'higher' beings like to call themselves – either. If he was one of them, he would know instinctively.
Evan immediately sits up, "Oh, sorry. I dated this girl who was a...a vampire."
"She told you that?" I interrupt, trying to keep the disbelief out of voice.
He must misunderstand the reason for my disbelief because he rushes to continue, "I didn't really believe her, even after the fangs – you know how real prosthetics can look – which is why we broke up. After a few months, though, I started noticing that some people were...different. I thought I was going crazy, but my ex found me and explained some things, like people turning into cats...you must think I'm crazy."
"Huh..." I trail off, ignoring the last part of his statement. There is no strict Were code, but vampires have laws more binding than steel. Unless she was planning to turn him, which she should have done by now, telling a human has many dangers and most master vampires would be pretty angry about it. "Are you still in contact with her?"
His eyes light up when I do not immediately tell him he has lost it. "I was, but she disappeared about a month ago. She said she was going into hiding," Evan says, watching me closely as he talks. "I don't even know what from..."
Cameron never gave a specific time, but going into hiding is a lot more concerning than... "Shit!"
Evan flinches, probably thinking my angry outburst was intended for him. In actuality, it is for me. I was supposed to tell Dylan, who would tell the packs about the reclusive vampires. He is definitely not going to be happy about this. In fact, he might even accuse me of withholding information, more to spite me than out of conviction. "Was this supposed to be a secret?" He asks nervously.
I immediately shake my head, then hesitate before nodding. "You shouldn't know, but that doesn't really matter to me. I just remembered something," I say, waving off his concern. "There is...some stuff going on between some people and I think the vampires are trying to avoid getting involved. Nothing to worry about."
For him, at least.
Evan sighs with obvious relief. "So you really were the black panther?" He asks, his tone becoming somewhat...excited. Like a kid on Christmas morning. "Can I see you shift?"
"Uh...no," I reply slowly. While I understand that he does not know how personal that question is, it is still disconcerting to be asked. Watching someone shift is incredibly personal and rather gross for those who are not use to it. Not even a complete disregard of my modesty would make me shift for him.
The human deflates at little before nodding his head in understanding. "I thought you'd say that. Can you change a part of your body?" He asks, his tone still rather hopeful.
"That usually requires intense emotions and that only works for my eyes," I reply. However, when his shoulders sag, I cannot help but feel a little bad and add, "I can still try, though."
The thought of the war stresses me out, but not enough to make my eyes change. My love for my sisters and parents is a constant thing, meaning it does nothing. My anger towards Dylan has faded throughout the day, leaving only mild irritation that I will get the chance to take out on him later. I no longer hate Ryland, either. He is-
Warm lips...
"Whoa, they changed."
Evan's exclamation cuts my thoughts off and I grimace a little. I know for a fact I no longer hate him, yet thinking about him makes me change. Is this supposed to be the moment where I admit that I am madly in love with him? 'Cause that would be a lie...maybe remembering the kiss pissed me off.
Once my eyes have returned to normal, I stand up. Evan mirrors my actions and holds out his hand. This time, I shake it. "Thank you for not lying to me," he says with a genuine smile.
"If you have any problems, you know how to reach me," I remind him, instead of replying to his comment. Honestly, I probably should have lied. But knowing the kind of fears that go through my family's mind whenever I go off the grid for more than a week and what he must be going through with his friend disappearing with no explanation, lying just did not seem like a good idea.
- - - - - - -
By the time I reach the pack house, it is mid-afternoon. Dylan and Markus are sitting on the porch rocking chairs off to the side of the house. The Beta is fast asleep and does not notice my Jeep pulling into their driveway. Though, the moment my friend stands up to greet me as I get out of the car, Markus is suddenly very awake, looking around wildly. When his eyes land on me, he slumps back into his chair and groans loud enough for me to hear very clearly.
"Glad to see you, too, Markus," I call out, getting another, much louder groan.
Normally Dylan would smile at our banter – no matter how one-sided – and join in on the teasing, but there are no signs of amusement on his face. To my relief, he does not look angry, either. Though, I am not sure I should be celebrating just yet, because he looks like an Alpha. As Dylan moves closer, I cast my gaze about the yard, spotting some wolves lingering by the lake, watching. They look as if they were about to go boating, but stopped to watch the cat get scolded. Like usual.
Some wolves I do not recognize and suspect that they might be from one of the visiting packs are also watching, more out of curiosity than the hope for entertainment. Dylan is the happy-go-lucky Alpha. Few people have ever actually seen him get angry and I am one of the only people who manage to see him angry often. After all, I tend to frustrate him more than his own wife, or so she has told me.
"You know that while we are friends, my duty as Alpha comes first, right?" He asks once he is only ten feet away and closing. I nod, rolling my eyes at the wolf drama that will no doubt ensue, but doing my best to keep my body language passive. "Do you consider yourself an outsider to the pack or part of the pack?"
In all honesty, I am not sure how to answer this one. I see myself as an outsider, but Dylan has always referred to me as part of the pack. Not as just a supporter, but as an actual part of the pack. While I do not know exactly what he means by that, I assume he wants my answer to be the latter. It is tempting to go against his wishes, but that could be a mistake. "Part of the pack," I grumble.
Just when it looks like he is about to walk into me, his hand captures the back of my neck in a firm grip and turns abruptly, forcing me to move with him towards the house or trip and be carried. A rumbling starts up in my chest, acting as my warning to Dylan. It is so soft it could only be felt through his contact with my neck, which means it is not a challenge to him, merely a cautioning sound. What he is doing does not have a place in my touch-me-and-die meter – it is Dylan, after all, and death is the last thing I want for him – but to take it any further would certainly make me angry. He inclines his head slightly, letting me know he received the message.
Markus follows us into the house and the door closes softly behind him. "You're spending the night here," Dylan suddenly announces, releasing his grip on my neck now that we are alone in the kitchen.
I squint at Dylan. "I take back my answer. I'm an outsider to the pack. A lone wolf kind of cat," I declare. Unlike the wolves, I am not above going back on something I said. It's only deals that I do my best not to break.
"You can't just take it back when it's convenient," he objects, glaring at me before looking over at his second. Markus grimaces now that the attention is on him, walking into the living room to avoid any part in this conversation.
"Actually, I can. I'm a cat. I have no honor," I boast, despite it being something no man should ever brag about. Especially to the prideful wolves. Dylan grinds his teeth while he tries to figure out a response. "What? No witty comeback?"
He growls, "Give me a second; I'm thinking."
I wait exactly one second before leaning against the counter, grinning, "Time's up. Admit defeat."
"You're spending the night," he tries again.
"That's not even a comeback!" I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air in exasperation. I narrow my eyes at him when he has the gall to look smug, "And I'm not staying here. I've said this before and I'll say it again: you're not my Alpha. Besides, I have school tomorrow. Don't push your luck."
Dylan takes a menacing step forward and I immediately slide around the island, putting it between us. For a moment, he looks about ready to jump over the island to get to me, but something stops him. "Assure me that you're not in danger and I won't handcuff you to the bed," he promises.
"Since I'm not into that kinky stuff, I'll remind you that Ryland won't be in town for another day, so making me sleep over tonight will do absolutely nothing. Well, okay, it will piss me off. I can also tell you that Ryland won't kill me until after the deal is over, if at all. He is convinced he'll change my mind," I inform him.
"He already has," Dylan corrects.
I scoff, "No, he hasn't. I don't hate him, sure, but that doesn't mean I love him and am willing to accept this stupid mate bond. Besides, regardless of what happens, I have every intention of turning him down."
"Even if you love him?" Dylan asks. His face says 'smug bastard', but his eyes show something akin to concern.
"I won't fall in love," I growl, daring him to say otherwise. He looks at me for a moment before sighing loudly. When he starts moving, I immediately skirt around the island to put more distance between us, but he just passes by me to walk into the living room.
I drop my car keys into the ceramic key bowl on the kitchen table and follow him into the living room, where I dramatically collapse on the largest couch in the room when I realize that Dylan is already in another part of the house, or outside, if the door closing is any indication. Markus, who was sitting on the couch across from me – the one right next to the stairs - grins. "That was quite the argument. I should have made popcorn. Almost like a lover's spat."
"Ha! He's not my type," I snort, glancing at the woman sitting in the chair next to him. If I had known she was there the whole time, I probably would have...no, I meant every word. No reason to change it. Besides, anyone in the house would have been able to hear some – if not all – of it, if they were listening hard enough.
Markus seems to find my words funny, though, as he continues to grin at me. The woman sitting in the chair next to him eyes him as well, not entirely sure what is making him so gleeful. "Your type being masculine giants?" Markus implies. My squinting turns into a glare.
"No wonder I'm not interested in you," I retort, receiving a bout of laughter from the woman, as well as anyone in earshot, which is pretty much everyone in the house.
Sadly, Dylan walks back in a few second later from outside, completely stoic. I bet he did not even hear the joke. "In case you didn't hear, the hobbit thinks we're having a lover's spat," I inform him, before he can ask why people are laughing.
Dylan looks like he is trying to be unhappy, but he tries too hard and it seems to cancel itself out. A small smirk graces his face and I know that I have won. Won what, though, I have no idea. "I have decided that you don't have to spend the night," he announces, before walking over to the couch and poking my back. "But you are staying for dinner."
I groan when his poking moves from place to place. However, one of his pokes gets too close to under my arm and I flinch away from the touch on instinct, despite knowing that it would be the biggest mistake to show Dylan my one true weakness.
My friend blinks slowly before a wolfish grin splits his face. "You never told me you were ticklish, Cade," Dylan chuckles, like a predator coming across a weakened animal. When I glance at Markus, the same glint is in his eye as he sits up a little straighter.
The woman hums in sympathy. "Boy, you better run," she says, breaking the momentary calm. Markus stands up slowly while Dylan lunges forward to grab me, but I am already flying off the couch and running up the stairs.
A couple of heads poke out into the hallway to see what is going on. When they see me charging down the hall, the doors abruptly close, knowing what is to follow. At the end of the upstairs hallway, I take a few precious seconds to shove the window up and climb out onto the roof, closing it behind me. This is not a horror movie, after all. He is not going to jump through the glass of his own window.
Sure enough, he has to slow down to open the window again and by then, I am already on the second part of the roof and rising. My goal is to get to the other side, jump down to the ground, and then escape to a tree. If I am lucky, I might even be able to make it to one of the boats.
I leap off the edge of the tallest part of the house onto the first part of the roof and run to the edge. I am about to jump when I am forced to hesitate. At the bottom of the porch, Markus is waiting, his hands on his hips as he looks up at me. The woman from the living room lingers nearby, most likely wanting to witness another one of Dylan's 'games'.
The hesitation costs me my freedom, as I am suddenly being pushed off the roof by the stupid wolf behind me. Markus catches me at an odd angle, where my feet are higher than my head and the ground is still slowly approaching my face. He drops me the rest of the way, feet first, before capturing me in a bear hug. Dylan drops down near us, having to roll to absorb the shock.
"Easy way or hard way, Cade?" Dylan asks, cracking his knuckles – one of them, anyway, as the second hand makes no sound – as he approaches us from the front. I glare at him before ramming the back of my head into Markus's face. His grip loosens a fraction and I slip away as he groans, clutching his cheek, but Dylan grabs my arm, pulling me over to him.
Almost immediately, his hand brushes under my arm and I suppress the urge to shiver, arching my body away from his touch as best I can. However, that does not stop what happens next and I am soon on the ground with both of them on either side of me. Markus is holding me down while Dylan torments me with his tickles. My wheezing laughter is the only thing to be heard across the lake as a few of the wolves draw in closes to see what's going on.
Thankfully, a car pulls into the driveway a few minutes after the torture begins and Erika jumps out of the car without even turning it off. Dylan pays her little mind, too focused on his task until, "What the hell is going on?"
Since we are directly in front of where she parked the car, the SUV lights illuminate us in the later afternoon light. And what a sight we must be. Dylan grinning like a happy puppy, Markus trying to hold in his laughter, and me with tears running down my cheeks, gasping for air now that the tickling has stopped.
Dylan's hands, which had stopped when his wife cut their game short, slides up against my armpits again and I groan loudly. The touch is not enough to make me laugh again, but it does make me feel sore all over. Erika slaps their hands away from me and helps me to my feet. "You guys should be ashamed," she scolds them, standing protectively in front of me.
And I let her. While I am against the idea that I need to be defended, especially by someone half my size, I need a moment to catch my breath so I can at least run again and not collapse from lack of oxygen a few seconds later. That, and she has the power to make Dylan and Markus think twice before going after me again in her presence. Markus, because she is his Alpha; Dylan, because she has the power to make him sleep on the couch.
We all make our way inside. I assume the other woman left during the tickling because she is nowhere in sight and she is not inside when Markus closes the door. I look out at the lake through the window before a sudden thought hits me. "Before I forget, I need to tell you something about the vampires," I remember.
"Okay?" Dylan asks, clearly surprised by my random statement.
Markus sits on the counter, making himself comfortable. I take a moment to gather what I know. "At first it looked like the older vampires were being reclusive again, but I found out earlier that an entire coven has gone missing..."
I spend about ten minutes telling them what I have been told by Cameron and Evan, as well as my own theories about the war being involved. I avoided naming my sources rather expertly though.
"Did a vampire tell you all of this?" Dylan asks, giving me the perfect out without even knowing it. Lying to someone who can read your tells – sadly not when it is actually beneficial to me – is a good way to get caught. Not telling the full truth, though, is much easier.
"No," I answer, keeping it short and simple. "Now, when's dinner? I have classes tomorrow and don't want to be late."
Erika smiles as she turns the oven on and takes a whole chicken out of the refrigerator, "An hour or so."
Dylan appears to be deep in thought about the previous topic, but Markus just rolls his eyes. "When you fail your classes, you can always ask the pack for a job," he assures me.
"Your confidence in me is overwhelming," I quip, before flipping him off over my shoulder as I leave the kitchen to wait in the living room. He laughs, but it dies down when a heated conversation spoken at a very low whisper breaks out between him and his Alpha. Normally, I would eavesdrop, but unless I hear my name, I am not all that interested in wolf politics.
When the idiot wolves leave the kitchen after being scolded by Erika for being in the way, I catch Dylan's eye to gauge his current mood to see if I can bait him into playing some kind of board game. However, what I find is most unsettling. The predatory glint has returned. I immediately stand up and decide to visit Erika for as long as she will let me stay in the kitchen. "Need any help?"
"From you? No," she replies.
I put my hand over my heart, "Why must you wound me so?"
"Drama queen," Erika grumbles, focused on the recipe in front of her.
"I prefer 'drama king'. Sounds more masculine," I reply, leaning up against her and whimpering like a wounded puppy. She rolls her eyes, pushing me away.
"Go be a drama king somewhere else."
I sigh, "Fine."
Since it is apparent she will not entertain me, it might be wise to find someone else to act as my shield. However, the moment I step outside the kitchen, I find that Dylan and Markus are waiting on the couches. "Shit," I mumble, calmly walking towards the door. They both rise from their seats to follow me out. The second I close the door behind me, I take off sprinting for the lake.
[AN: We have passed the halfway mark and I already have an ending in mind, though there will be more than one book.]