Chapter 15
The anticipation had me so distracted that I jumped when someone knocked at the front door. Of course, the shower turned off at that moment. Bad timing. I scowled, took a breath, then walked to the front door. Smarter this time, I checked the peephole.
Sam stood on the doorstep, and he looked very serious. He must have left in the middle of the night in order to get here first thing in the morning. I frowned. The surprises just kept coming, and it wasn't even eight.
Fixing a welcoming smile on my face, I pulled open the door.
"Morning, Sam. This is a surprise." I wanted to see Clay freshly shaven without an audience, but I motioned Sam in anyway. If he took the time to drive here, I would take the time to listen to whatever he had to say. Maybe it would be a short visit.
He stepped inside.
"Um, don't get me wrong, I like seeing you, but is there a reason you're here?" I said, trying to hurry him along.
"We'll wait for Clay."
His cryptic answer caught me off guard. It'd been more than two months since we'd seen each other. Sure, we had talked, but it wasn't the same as seeing someone face to face. I'd expected him to look at least slightly happy to see me.
Just then, the bathroom door opened. I excitedly turned to look for Clay. Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, he stepped into the living room. But I didn't waste my time ogling him. My eyes honed in on his face. Only Sam's observant presence kept me from wrinkling my nose.
Clay still sported his beard, but he had trimmed it back. The neat length continued to obscure his teeth while revealing a hint of his lips. At least now, I'd be able to see when he smiled. The whiskers that had covered his neck were gone, leaving the clean-shaven column of his throat exposed. My eyes lingered on that skin for a moment before moving on. He'd also run his fingers through his hair so it lay back out of his face. The deep purple of his black eye had already faded to an ugly green-yellow. Even with his bruising, he looked really good. Just not shaven all the way.
I smiled warmly at Clay, wishing we were alone so I could tell him what I thought.
"You know why I'm here, Clay," Sam said from behind me.
My smile fell as I turned to look at him. What was he talking about?
"I'm told you didn't take the news well."
I turned back to Clay in time to see him shrug and cross his arms.
"What's going on? What news?" I said glancing between the two.
Sam gave Clay a sharp look. "You didn't tell her?"
"He's not talking to me, yet," I said, wondering what bad news Sam had to share.
Sam shook his head at Clay. "You've dug your own hole then, son." He focused on me. "A group of Forlorn have asked Elder Joshua to approach you for an unofficial kind of Introduction. Joshua approved, but he made it clear they were to keep it brief and then leave, unless any of them had a further request of him."
The meaning of Sam's words sunk in deep like a vicious bite. It also explained his less than warm greeting. He stood in my living room as an Elder on pack business, not as family or a friend. I struggled to contain my anger.
"I thought I was done with that. We had a deal." I crossed my arms and coldly regarded Sam. "I know I said I was done."
The carefully, composed expression on Sam's face faltered a bit. "Honey, there are rules we must follow to keep peace in the pack. Clay had six months to convince you of his suit. That time has passed. That means unMated can once again approach you, with permission."
My mouth popped open. Six months. Permission from an Elder. That's why they'd stationed Joshua here. A backup plan because they knew I didn't want to Claim Clay. They failed to understand I didn't want to Claim anyone. I'd never been free. I clenched my fists. My temper boiled.
"That's complete crap," I gritted out. "First of all, I didn't reject anyone. Second, no one ever told me about this stupid rule." My voice rose to a yell, and I took a deep breath and closed my eyes briefly to restrain myself. When I reopened them, I felt more in control and able to speak calmly. "You know what? I don't care what the pack rules are. I gave you my word and my time. Now, I expect you to keep yours. I worked hard to get here, Sam. I won't let anyone take this away from me." My hands shook. That Sam had cared for me in the past and given me a place to call home for two years, kept my tongue marginally civil.
"By not completing the Claim, you've become eligible again. Charlene was granted a special consideration because, at that time, we weren't even sure a Claiming would be possible between a human and a werewolf. Now that we know it is, you fall under the same rules," Sam explained calmly, his face again carefully devoid of emotion.
"No, I don't." I knew I could stand there and argue all day with Sam, and he wouldn't budge. It would always be whatever's best for the pack with him. "Is this why Clay was beat up?"
Clay made a noise-like a snort of disagreement-behind me.
"Feel free to jump in at any time," I said, turning to arch an eyebrow at him. He remained mute, but his eyes softened when he looked at me.
Sam spoke up from behind me, but I didn't turn to look at him.
"Gabby, it's the reason he's been fighting. He's not relinquishing his tie to you. Every time an unMated shows up here, he will challenge that man for his right for Introduction. Did Clay get beat up? Only as a byproduct of handing out beatings."
Clay steadily met my gaze the entire time. It broke my heart a little to know he was fighting so hard to keep me, and all I'd given him in those six months was a kiss. Not even spontaneously given, but relinquished as part of a bribe. I hadn't rejected him. I just didn't want to be forced into a choice. If I chose to be with Clay, I wanted it to be on our terms.
"Why is two years of school too much to ask for?" I said to Sam, tearing my guilty gaze from Clay.
"And after that? Then you'll want time to establish your career. Let's face it. There will never be a perfect time for this in your life. You just need to make the best with what you have."
As in, suck it up? My temper boiled over. Screw respect. He just crossed a line. I walked right up to him and poked him in the shoulder.
"No, Sam, you do. I'm not your pawn in this game you play with women's lives. I went to your Introductions and fulfilled any obligation I felt I owed you for the roof over my head. You have no say in who I see..." Poke. "...or what I do, unless you intend to drag me back to the Compound and physically force me to bite someone."
Clay growled slightly behind me, obviously sharing my sentiment. I stepped back from Sam and moved closer to Clay.
"It's time for you to leave, Sam. Don't come back." Saying those words hurt just as much as knowing I only mattered to him because of what I meant to the pack, rather than what I meant to him.
"You were never an obligation to me, Gabby." When I looked away, he tried to persuade Clay. "You know it'd be safer for both of you if the Introductions continued at the Compound. If you keep going like this, there might be someone you won't beat. Are you willing to risk leaving her alone, then?"
What did he mean by that? Clay could get hurt even worse? I thought they were nearly invincible. Glancing at Clay, I looked at each bruise and saw the real answer. They were hard to beat but made to break, just like the rest of us.
I walked to the door and opened it for Sam, signaling the end of the conversation.
"All right, then." He walked to the door and turned toward me. "Gabby, call me anytime. I'm here to help you, no matter what you might think right now."
I nodded stiffly and closed the door behind him. His help would only extend as far as it could help the pack. He'd just proven I meant less to him than they did, but I'd always known that. Why, then, did I let it hurt me?
For a few seconds, I just stared at the door's surface and tried to let go of my anger. Sam made his choices. I needed to make my own.
I turned to look at Clay. He'd moved closer to me, probably waiting for my reaction to everything Sam had just said. I didn't want to deal with it, yet. Instead, I reached up and teased my fingers through the whiskers along his jaw.
"Much better, but I'm going to keep at you until it's all shaved off, and maybe a haircut, too."
He briefly bared his teeth, re-explaining the reason for the beard.
I spent a moment studying his face. I ran my fingers over his forehead and traced his black eye. He held still, patiently letting me look my fill. Would things have progressed differently if I'd known about a timeframe? I doubted I'd have even let him in the door if I'd known he only had six months to try to convince me.
With a sigh, I stepped away. "I need to get ready for class. Before I go, would you show me where you got the coveralls from?"
He nodded and his lips curled in a slight, secretive smile. I definitely liked seeing his lips.
* * * *
My hunch had been right. He pulled into a small auto body shop on South Mitchell. The street name tickled a memory. I couldn't place it until the mechanic currently working looked up at our approach. Cleaning his hands on a rag, he smiled at us.
"Dale from the parking lot?" I whispered, looking at Clay questioningly. He just nodded. It explained his secret smile and his interest in books about auto mechanics.
Clay exited the car and moved to open my door. I'd thought I would get a drive by tour, not a walking one. Wide eyed, I stepped out.
Dale walked toward us. "Hi there, Gabby. Glad Clay finally brought you around." He held out his freshly wiped hand. I clasped it briefly. "I have to tell you that I was surprised when Clay showed up and was as good as you boasted." I didn't recall actually boasting. "Although, it doesn't look like he's been taking care of your car."
Clay said nothing in his defense-of course-leaving the talking to me.
"I'm always running back and forth to my classes. It's hard to give it up for any amount of time." I shrugged away his question. "Speaking of which..." I looked at Clay. "I really need to get going, or I'll be late." I turned back to Dale. "It was nice seeing you again, Dale. I hope stopping in was okay. I really wanted to see where Clay was working."
"Stop by anytime." He waved as we walked out and got back in our car.
"I'm sure there was some type of logic to picking that place," I said to Clay as he drove us home. "Someday you'll have to tell me about it."
* * * *
By Friday, everything seemed back to normal with my pull. Men once again noticed me. Their eyes followed me around campus. Thankfully, they seemed to remember my repeated rejections from the beginning of the semester and didn't approach me anew.
I did wonder what exactly had happened, though. The suspicions that floated around in my head needed further examination, but I wanted to talk through them while Clay listened.
When I walked through the door just before five, an empty house greeted me. I really needed to find out his work schedule.
Rachel got home a little after five. As soon as she walked in the door, she announced she'd decided to go out to a dance club. She continued to her room without waiting for a response from me. I followed her, needing the company. Life had just been a little too weird for me over the past week.
"Don't suppose you'd like to come with?" she asked, looking at the options in her closet.
I sat in the middle of her bed safely out of the way of any clothing options she tossed behind her.
"You know how it is," I said as I plucked at a string in her quilt. "It's just worse if they're drinking."
"Which one do you like better?" Rachel asked, demanding my attention. She'd pulled two dresses from her closet. "This one?" She held up a red dress with a tuck that crossed the middle to accentuate the wearer's curves. "Or this one?" She indicated a standard black dress with a twist. The real hemline was shorter than the red's, but a secondary hemline comprised of strands of beads hung from the first hemline giving the illusion of another six inches.
"I think the black one would be more fun to dance in."
"I think you're right." She set both on the bed and rummaged in her jewelry box. "I have an idea. Peter can't go out tonight. I think we should make it a girl's night out." She turned with something in her hand and arched a brow at me. "Unless you have plans with Sir Talks-A-Lot?"
"No, but-"
She tossed what she held in my direction. By reflex, I caught it.
"Have you ever tried wearing a ring? Some friends of mine do it when they want to go out to have fun and not be bothered by anyone." She grabbed the black dress, handed it to me, then begged. "Let's just try. It's a club with extremely expensive drinks. The prices discourage an all-out drunk, and it has great music."
I hesitated, thinking of Clay. Did I really want to sit here, waiting? It wouldn't help him get home faster. The niggling concern that his delay related to another challenge reared its head. But, Sam had assured me that the challenger would want to heal between fights. If Clay dished out more than he got, the other guy wouldn't be ready yet, anyway.
She pounced on my hesitation. "You know I'll leave anytime you say you're ready to go. You never seem to let your hair down and just have fun. With that kind of constant tension, you're going to end up with heart disease or something."
Her comment about never having fun hit home. I did tend toward the more serious course. When was the last time I did something just for the fun of it? For myself? The double date with Scott had been for Rachel. The party last weekend had been for Nicole. The Introductions for the last two years had been for Sam.
Pathetically, I hadn't done anything just for fun since before I went to live with Sam. Even going to school and getting an education was more for my grandma than me. Before she died, I'd made her a promise to get an education and find something that made me happy.
But would going out dancing really be something I would find fun? I toyed with the fringe on the dress. Yes, dancing would be fun. The men who I'd rather avoid made it a less than fun idea. I looked at the ring in my palm. The large stone sparkled brightly. It was meant to be noticed, but not gaudy. Would it work?
"We'd leave at the first sign the ring doesn't work? Even if we never make it in the club?" I glanced up at her and caught her hopeful expression.
"I've got your back," she promised. "First sign and we're home, curled on the couch watching a chick flick."
"All right," I sighed and grabbed the black dress. "I've got nothing better to do."
"Gee, thanks," Rachel said with a laugh as I left to change.
* * * *
Rachel and I had to stand in a long line. It seemed the college crowd favored the downtown club despite the overpriced drinks. We shuffled forward every few seconds while listening to the muted music that thumped from within. Each time the bouncer opened the door it briefly grew louder. The door didn't open frequently enough.
I shivered as we inched forward and tried not to move too much so the cold beads wouldn't touch my legs. Eventually we grew close enough that I could watch the man at the door methodically check everyone's ID. I wasn't worried. I knew I wouldn't have a problem getting in.
"Finally," Rachel said with a smile as she stepped up to the man. She showed her ID.
The bouncer barely looked at her. He eyed me closely, not even glancing at the ID I held out. I withstood his scrutiny, wishing he'd hurry so we could warm up inside. I'd pulled my hair back into a messy knot and added a touch of eyeliner and mascara. It wasn't much of a change, but between the makeup and the dress, he looked at me as if I were a goddess. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Then his eyes settled on the ring I wore.
"You come get me if anyone inside gives you any problems," he said. I nodded. He opened the door for us, and I stepped inside after Rachel.
The music's bass reverberated in the floor and my body. I wouldn't be able to hear anything else but didn't care. The club's warm air enveloped me.
Rachel pointed toward the bar. A long blackboard above the bar, filled with neon colored chalk, listed their specialty drinks and prices. As promised, the drinks were expensive. Good thing we wanted to dance, not drink.
Grabbing my hand, she pulled me to the edge of the swaying crowd and started to dance. I did a little twist in the dress and smiled to myself as the beaded hemline flared out. The dress was as fun to wear as I'd thought. Then the beads slapped my legs on the back swing. The sting of it made me rethink the fun factor. If anyone got out of line, maybe I could use it as a weapon.
The music freed me from worry about male attention, about Clay, and about Sam and his stupid rules. I danced with Rachel and truly had fun.
Eventually, reality invaded in the form of our own all male crowd, and our dancing became a game of evasion. Rachel arched a brow at me. I shook my head, not yet ready to call it quits. The deafening music made it impossible for them to talk to me, and its fast heavy beat didn't inspire a slow, close dance. As long as I evaded the bump and grind, I could still enjoy myself.
After a few songs, I signaled to Rachel because a persistent member of the group kept rubbing up against my backside. She grabbed my hand, and we both ignored the protests of the men around us as she led the way to the bar. A few of the men followed. One of them managed to pull out his wallet and order drinks for both of us before we could stop him. Rachel took hers, but I shook my head and shouted to the bartender that I just wanted water. The generous buyer sulked a bit, but I ignored him and his shouted attempts at conversation.
Sipping my water, I looked around feeling watched-by someone not in the immediate group of men who surrounded us.
I spotted two women further down the bar. They weren't exactly watching me. They were eyeing the crowd of men around us. Neither looked angry, but both looked a little envious. Dressed very similar to Rachel and me, they stood isolated at the bar. The way they kept glancing at me, they probably wondered what I had that they didn't. I couldn't blame them. I looked a bit frumpier than they did.
I motioned to Rachel, and we moved down the bar so our group would spread out to include the two women, as well. I shouted my name over the music and pointed to myself by way of introduction. The women smiled and seemed friendly. They tried to make conversation with a few of the men.
I didn't notice someone leaning close to me until his breath tickled my neck and his unfamiliar voice spoke smoothly in my ear.
"About time you left your guard dog at home." He was just loud enough so I could hear him over the music.
Curious, I turned. He stood several inches taller than I did. No surprise since just about everyone towered over me. He looked even taller than Clay, but not as wide shouldered. He had copper brown hair and hazel eyes. A humor-filled smile flashed at me as I studied him.
"Excuse me, do I know you?"
He leaned in and spoke in my ear. "No need to shout, love. You know I can hear you just fine." His lips touched the curve of my ear, and I shivered as he inhaled deeply. "Mm, you smell good."
I pulled back, leaned against the bar to make some space between us, and really looked at him. In the background, the bodies on the dance floor moved in rhythm to the steady beat of the music. I opened myself to my other sight and wasn't surprised to see his blue-green spark or several other matching sparks in the crowd behind him. Blue-green I could deal with. The other color I didn't want to face until I knew what it meant.
"What do you want?" I said.
With humans, the "safety in numbers" rule worked. Not necessarily so with werewolves. But they did have their own non-human set of rules they still needed to follow, unless they were Forlorn. I'd be okay, as long as I followed the rules Sam taught me.
He leaned in again. "Just to say hi, love. You're hard to catch by yourself. Did you know your dog follows you to school?"
"Hi, then," I said refusing to respond to his last question. If Clay followed me to school, how did he ever find the time to work? Again, I wished he'd just start talking to me.
The man beside me remained close. I didn't like that his breath continued to tickle my ear. Clay would smell him on me.
Rachel noticed us and sent me a questioning look. I gave her a half-smile to reassure her that I didn't mind-even though I really did.
"I was hoping we'd be able to go somewhere quieter to talk."
"Really? Just us? Or those other guys in the crowd, too?" I took a sip of my water and glanced at him.
His smile stretched wider. "And I thought we were blending in well."
None of their kind could ever blend into a human crowd. At least, not for me.
I decided to be blunt. "Do you have permission to be here?"
"We have permission to approach you and request a second meeting."
"Second?"
"This would count as the first," he clarified helpfully.
"Ah." So talking me into leaving with him would probably be the second meeting that he had permission to request. However, I bet he didn't have permission to have the second meeting without Elder supervision. Typical Forlorn rule breaking. His eyes never left my face, and the longer I remained silent the more his humor slipped. I didn't think he would accept no to his request. It might even result in my immediate forceful removal from this bar. Could nothing in my life ever go easy?
"I can't go with you tonight. I'm with a friend. But I plan to be at the Compound for an Introduction tomorrow night."
"Really? It's odd that no call's gone out for it." He tilted his head and studied me, probably trying to sense a lie. Didn't matter. He wouldn't sense one as I'd just made up my mind.
"That's because I haven't told my guardian yet. We had a fight, and I'm still pretty pissed at him." Pretty pissed at him, and pretty pissed at you. Why couldn't everyone just leave me alone? "I'm tired of being told what to do and want the Introductions on my terms. I didn't think about the call. Sorry."
He looked at me closely for several moments. "I can understand not wanting to be told what to do. That's why we left our packs."
Forlorn. My stomach dropped, and my hand tightened on my glass. Bad grew worse the moment he smelled my fear. His nostrils flared minutely, and his grin widened.
"Don't worry, little one. We're not going to cause you any trouble tonight. We will see you tomorrow night."
Yep, that sounded like a threat. If I didn't go to the Compound, they would be coming to get me either way.
He nodded to me, turned, and disappeared into the crowd. I used my sight and monitored his progress as he and his group left the club. Once they cleared the building, I grabbed Rachel's hand to distract her from her shouted conversation and motioned for the exit. A true friend, she immediately set her barely touched drink on the bar and moved to follow me.
One of the women noticed and snagged my arm.
"Please stay!" she shouted.
I smiled regretfully at her and her friend. Both pleaded with their eyes as did the men behind them. But the men begged for a different reason-they were only feeling the effects of the pull I had. I felt a moment of pity for the women. At some point in our lives, we all looked for that one being to connect with. These two just wanted a chance to find their special someone.
Though I understood, Rachel and I needed to leave in case the Forlorn changed their minds about waiting until tomorrow. I reached out to the women ready to apologize.
As soon as my fingers made contact with their arms, a large shock took the three of us by surprise. I knew immediately what I'd done. It hadn't stung as bad as it had when I'd zapped Nicole, but the drain of it was worse. Now Rachel and I had even more reason to leave quickly.
The women looked stunned. I just laughed it away and patted their arms.
"Sorry," I shouted over the music and waved goodbye.
This time when I moved to go, no one paid me any attention. One of the men behind the girls had already called the bartender over to order more drinks for the group. I hoped the woman would stick together and be smart about the attention soon to be showered on them.
The first wave of dizziness washed over me as Rachel and I pushed our way through the crowd toward the door. The bouncer didn't even give me a second glance as we left. No man did. It confirmed what I had already guessed.
Our heels tapped out a rapid cadence on the sidewalk, but the clipped sound seemed like it came from under water. I wondered how long it would take my ears to recover from the loud music.
"We need to get home," I said as soon as we were far enough away from the club that I could hear.
"Why? Is someone following us?" She turned to look behind us.
I hadn't thought of that. I hoped the Forlorn would keep their word because I couldn't look for them with my sight. I didn't want to drain myself further.
"No, I'm just really not feeling well."
We reached Rachel's car, and I slid into my seat. By the time Rachel eased into the driveway, I shivered uncontrollably. She had cranked the heat in the car, but it hadn't helped. After all, the shivering wasn't because of a chill or a fever. I didn't argue when she parked and told me to stay sitting. She came to my side of the car to help me out.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner that you weren't feeling well?" Rachel said with one arm wrapped securely around my waist as she helped me into the house. The cold beads of the dress tickled the backs of my legs.
"I d-didn't know. It c-came on f-fast."
Rachel unlocked the door. We'd stayed at the club an hour at least, but the house remained quiet and dark.
"Clay?" I called from the kitchen. No answer. How long did Dale keep him on a Friday night? Rachel helped me to my room and frowned the empty bed.
"I wonder where he is," she murmured.
Too late, I realized my mistake. When I'd called for Clay, I'd wanted the man, forgetting all about Clay-the-dog. Thankfully, I hadn't said anything more.
She unzipped the back of my dress because I shook too badly to reach it, then left my room to search the rest of the house for Clay. I let the dress fall to the floor and struggled to put on my warm pajamas. Rachel came back a few moments after I'd managed to pull up the pants. She looked even more worried.
"I can't find him anywhere."
"M-maybe he got out. I'm going to bed. I'm sure he'll s-show up tomorrow," I said, crawling under the covers.
Rachel got me a glass of water, set it on the dresser, then felt my forehead.
"Doesn't feel like a fever. Maybe it's low grade."
"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I've had this before and just need sleep." I burrowed deeper under the covers and tried to curl up to stop shaking. I wished for Clay again. I needed him. He warmed me, comforted me, and I needed to tell him about my promise to go to another Introduction. That wouldn't go over well.
Rachel continued to watch me-nurse Rachel, not friend Rachel. I needed to distract her before she insisted I go see someone.
"I forgot to tell you. I have plans to leave tomorrow to see Sam. If Clay's back, I want to take him with me."
"You sure you'll be up for it?"
"Yeah, it's not something I have a choice about."
"All right. Wake me up if you need anything." She left the room but kept the door ajar. It made my heart ache as I recalled how, first my mother, and then my grandmother, had done the same for me whenever I'd been ill.