Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (315 page)

I spent about five minutes trying to wipe my feet clean on one of the entry rugs before I gave up and walked back to my room. My speech continued to run through my head. Either it would work or not. We both knew I couldn’t live in the woods. He would need to rejoin society. He’d see I wasn’t worth the effort.

With a mental sigh, I pushed it from my thoughts and focused on the present. I planned to lounge in the apartment and finish the novel I’d started over a month ago. My stomach rumbled loudly. And eat.

T
he next morning
I woke early. I’d grown so bored reading the day before that I’d gone to bed by eight. So it was no surprise when I opened my eyes and saw my phone flashed five a.m. Sam would kill me if I woke him up. I only hesitated a moment before I threw back the covers and got out of bed. In the pitch-dark room, I managed to pull my zipper hoodie on over my tank top, tiptoe to my door, and open it without a sound.

I only managed three steps into the living room when the light near the sofa clicked on, blinding me for a moment.

“Doesn’t anyone sleep around here?”

“Sorry. I should know better than to try not to wake you.” His hearing made him a very light sleeper.

“What are you doing up already?” He sat up and ran his hands through his hair as if trying to wake himself up more.

I doubted it would work and didn’t think he would appreciate an offer to make him coffee given the time. He’d rather just go back to bed.

“I was going to check on the truck. He had it mostly taken apart yesterday afternoon. I wanted to see if he started putting it back together.”

“What did you say to him yesterday?” Sam surprised me by getting out of bed and stripping the sheets. We always changed the bedding just before we left so it was ready in case anyone else ever used the rooms. But it was five a.m....

“What do you mean?” I took a few steps backward to lean against my door and watched his progress. He almost tripped over his bag while pulling off the fitted sheet.

“Do you want me to start some coffee?” It wasn’t normal for werewolves to be anything less than agile. Coffee couldn’t be good for him.

“No, I’m fine,” he said, answering my last question first. “I mean, he asked for the keys to the truck last night and brought them back earlier this morning. Truck’s fixed. I checked myself. So, I’m wondering what you said to him.”

My mouth popped open. I couldn’t believe he’d actually listened to me. A silly smile tugged at my mouth. Did this really mean he’d let me go? My barely formed smile faded. Or would I just wake up back in this apartment tomorrow morning if I tried to leave?

Sam continued to remake the bed with the clean sheets from the hidden compartment in the matching sofa ottoman.

There had to be a catch. Sam had told me a tied pair didn’t part until completing the Claim. When Clay had scented me, and I’d recognized him openly, the Elders saw us as a pair. They, in turn, announced it to everyone over their mental link. Every werewolf, whether in a pack or Forlorn, recognized our tie. If my words truly changed Clay’s mind, great—but Sam’s question caused me to begin to doubt that possibility, and I struggled to come up with what I’d overlooked.

“The truth,” I said answering Sam’s question. “Let’s say he is my Mate. He’s an uneducated man from the backwoods. How are we going to live? I can’t turn on the fur like you guys can and live as a wolf like he’s done for most of his life. Where does that leave us? I just pointed out that I had to go to school to get the education I needed to land a good job to support myself because he can’t.”

Sam had stopped remaking the bed and looked at me in disbelief.

“Well, I said it nicer than that.”

He gave me a disappointed look.

“You don’t know anything about him, Gabby. He may have lived most of his life in his fur, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t intelligent or that he’s more wolf than man. You may have caused yourself more trouble than you intended.”

I shifted against the door. “Hold on, I didn’t say either of those things to him.” Granted, I did tell him he needed to bathe. “And what do you mean ‘more trouble?’”

“He said that you suggested he live with you so you could get to know each other better.”

I froze in disbelief. That is not what I said.

“Wait. Did he actually talk to you?”

“Well, I had to put on my fur to understand him since he was in his, but yes.”

Sam’s kind communicated in several ways when in their fur; typically, through body language or howls. Claimed and Mated pairs shared a special bond using an intuitive, mental link. Once establishing a Claim, the pair could sense strong emotions as well as each other’s location. Mated pairs had the same ability to communicate with each other as the Elders had with everyone in the pack.

I closed my eyes and thought back to my exact wording.

“I didn’t say we should live together, but that he should come back with me to get an education.” Fine, I hadn’t worded it well, but how did he get ”hey, we should live together” out of that?

“Like I said, you’ve got trouble.” He gave me another disappointed look, folded the bed back into the sofa, then picked up his bag from the floor. He strode to the bathroom and closed the door on any further conversation.

Crap. I needed to talk to Clay again and find out what he intended. I’d been counting on his feral upbringing and his need for freedom to cause him to reject my suggestion—a suggestion that hadn’t included him living with me. I’d meant he should find a place nearby so we could go through the motions of human dating, which was the extent of my willingness to compromise. I hadn’t thought he’d take any of it seriously but that, instead, he would just let me go.

I left the apartment and stole through the deserted hallways. At the main door, I paused to put on shoes then step out into the pre-dawn darkness. The yard light cast shadows near the vehicles. I stood on the porch for a moment but heard nothing.

Cautiously walking across the empty expanse, I found the repaired truck, but no Clay. My stomach knotted as I studied the truck. Sam’s words about Clay’s intelligence haunted me. A man raised in the wild knew how to dismantle and reassemble an engine. I’d underestimated him. No matter which way I looked at it, it all pointed back to the fact I didn’t know enough about Clay to try to guess what he’d do next.

Back in the apartment, Sam waited, ready to leave. I didn’t bother with a shower but remade the bed and grabbed my own bag.

We made it back to the truck without any sign of Clay. Sensing my mood, Sam didn’t say anything to me as I climbed in, and we started the long drive home.

It was several hours into the ride when I finally stopped looking behind us or stretching my second sight to search for werewolves. There’d been no sign of Clay following us, but there’d been no sign of Clay following me the night before last, either.

I
was
on edge the first week back, unsure if, or when, Clay would show up.

Desperate for distraction, I plunged into my two part-time jobs and worked as much as possible. I woke up early each morning, showered, ate breakfast, and packed a lunch, all long before Sam got out of bed. And because I still cared, I started his coffee before I walked out the door. In the evenings, a dark house greeted me when I returned home, worn out from the long day. Usually, Sam had something set aside for my dinner. I’d eat, go to bed, then start the cycle again the next morning.

I could have asked Sam if he knew what Clay planned, but he hadn’t mentioned Clay since we’d left the Compound. I feared, if I brought it up, he would think I missed Clay or something. Since I didn’t want Sam sending out a call that might cause Clay to show up when he otherwise wouldn’t, I kept quiet. Worry ate at me; but, as time passed, and my hectic schedule successfully prevented thoughts of Clay, I started to feel safe again.

Three weeks before the start of school, I found the perfect roommate, Rachel. I’d been watching the papers near school when I came across her ad for a roommate. We hit it off the first time we spoke on the phone. She attended the same school in which I’d enrolled and was going into her third year in the nursing program. She rented a two-bedroom house. Her roommate from the prior year had moved out after graduation. Rachel had tried living on her own over the summer, but the bills grew too expensive and the house too quiet.

After our call, I did some research and found the house wasn’t in the best part of town, but I couldn’t find anything closer that I could still afford. Plus, the unoccupied bedroom she offered came furnished with a bed and a dresser; I didn’t own the bed I slept on now and didn’t feel right taking it with me when I left. So, I called Rachel back and let her know I wanted the room.

Sunday, a week before school started, I once again packed my possessions, an old familiar routine I’d forgotten while living with Sam. Sam pretended not to care I was leaving, but I knew he did. I’d only stepped out of my room for a minute to grab my shampoo and brush from the bathroom, and when I walked back into the room, I caught him slipping some money into the emergency cash I kept hidden in a half-full tampon box in my dresser. He pretended to check the dresser as if ensuring I hadn’t forgotten anything. I went along with it.

Packing didn’t take long. Everything I owned fit into several messenger bags and an old suitcase I’d gotten at a secondhand store. By lunch, we had what I needed loaded into the back of Sam’s truck. A passerby wouldn’t have noticed the small pile.

After one last look around the house to make sure I had everything, we climbed into the truck and started the journey. Sam looked slightly depressed as he drove. Excitement filled me, but I fought hard to keep it from showing. I didn’t think my joy would give him any comfort.

“You’ll call me if you have any trouble?” Sam asked, yet again.

“Yes, Sam. But I’m over four hours from you. I’ll need to face things on my own.”

“Not on your own. Elder Joshua has moved nearby. I’ll be able to contact him if you have a need.”

Sam had mentioned Elder Joshua to me a few days after I found Rachel. I knew Elder Joshua’s recent move was for me but didn’t make any complaint. As long as he stayed away until I needed something, we’d get along just fine.

When we arrived, Rachel sat waiting on the front step of the small ranch house. She’d described herself on the phone as just over average height with brown hair and eyes. She’d left out everything else. Her deep, brown hair hung silky-straight, and the beautifully bronzed tone of her skin had me wondering if she had any African-American heritage. Her perfectly arched brows didn’t appear tweezed or penciled, and they highlighted her darkly lashed eyes.

At about five-foot ten inches, she surpassed average height. Long, lean legs extended from her cutoffs, and her V-necked top showed sufficient cleavage to know she didn’t need to stuff her bra, either. Overall, she was gorgeous enough to make a straight girl wonder if she should switch teams, and that worried the hell out of me. Oh, not that I’d switch teams. As annoying and obsessive as men were, I still preferred them. No, her attitude the first time a man overlooked her and focused on me, worried me. Let’s face it. Pretty girls can be very mean.

I drew my brief gaze from her as she stood to watch Sam do a Y-turn to back into the driveway. Using the side mirror of the truck, I studied the house.

A cracked and uneven sidewalk led to the front steps. Faded yellow aluminum siding and brown trim gave the small house a slightly run down look. Rachel had mentioned room dimensions to me to prepare me. After living at Sam’s place, this house did appear small from the outside. Only two windows adorned the front of the house. There was a large picture window, which probably meant a living room, and, on the side of the house close to the driveway, a much smaller window. With the shade half-drawn, I assumed it belonged to a bedroom. How many houses had just two windows on their front? At least, they looked new, as did the roof.

As Sam backed into the driveway, I smiled and waved to Rachel. She walked toward the truck while Sam parked.

“Hi! Gabby, right?” Rachel said with an excited smile.

“Yes.” I opened my door and stepped out of the truck. She caught me off guard by pulling me into an embrace. With my arms pinned to my sides, I fought the urge to pull back. “I hope you’re Rachel.” With that, she let me escape from her exuberant hug.

“I’m so glad to see you look so normal,” she said looking even happier than she had a moment ago. “I was worried I’d end up with someone weird when I put that ad in the paper.” Ah, that explained the happiness. Too bad, she had no idea how “weird” I was.

Sam came around from his side of the truck.

“Rachel, this is my grandpa, Sam.”

“Hi, Sam!”

He quickly extended his hand for a friendly handshake, and I hid my smile. He’d noticed her boisterous hug.

Rachel clasped his hand. “Would you like to come in and see the place before we carry everything in?” She darted a puzzled look at the back of the truck.

I smiled. “We’ll be able to carry it in and take a tour at the same time. I don’t have much.”

We grabbed my bags and walked around to the front of the house. The door opened to a tiny entry, with the vacant bedroom immediately to the right, a small hall closet straight ahead, and the living room to the left.

We all stepped into my room to set down my things. I’d been correct about the window being a bedroom window.

As Rachel had promised, my room came furnished with a full-sized bed. I had just enough space around it to walk. Accustomed to a twin, it seemed overly large. Thankfully, I had the correct bedding for it. A gift from Sam. The closet was a small rectangle, but more than enough space for what I owned. The only other piece of furniture—a small, battered wood dresser—leaned against the interior wall. Nothing decorated the walls, which Rachel said she’d done on purpose, so I could add my own flair to the room.

Rachel gave us the grand tour of the five-room house. The living room was long, but not very deep, and occupied the rest of the front of the house. Rachel had it tastefully decorated. Two sets of curtains hung in the picture window. The soft cream-colored ones faced the road, while the inside set matched the color of the worn, brown leather couch centered in front of the window. Square, wooden end tables held cream-colored lamps with matching shades and crowded each end of the couch.

A chair, set at a sharp angle against the interior wall, used the remaining space in the living room. The TV wall she’d painted a medium brown while the standard off-white covered the rest of the walls, which included my bedroom and the entry. A large, dark-brown rug, a shade close to the color of the couch and the curtains, covered all but a small swath of the living room’s beige carpet. Overall, the room looked comfortable.

Through the living room’s arched doorway, on the same wall as the TV, a small hallway connected the living room, her bedroom, a tiny linen closet, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the door to the basement.

Rachel turned left and briefly showed her room, the larger of the two bedrooms. Then she turned us and opened the door between the living room arch and the bathroom. She flicked on the basement light and told me we had our own washer and dryer and plenty of room for storage.

She gave the bathroom, opposite her room, a quick wave. “It’s small, but it could be worse.”

I noted that, although the bathroom measured half the size of the one at Sam’s place, it didn’t feel cramped. The pedestal sink, tub, and toilet abutted the wall shared with my bedroom. White tile covered the walls to about midway, except for the shower area where the tiles ran from tub to ceiling. Dark-blue paint coated the walls and offset the overabundance of white. She’d also defused the white of the plastic shower curtain by layering a dark-blue, cloth shower curtain over it and used a cute, white flower clip to swag it to the side. Everything looked neat and clean.

Finally, she led us to the kitchen. An addition there extended the room five feet into the backyard and brought it from worthless to functional. Just inside the kitchen arch, to the right, a table for four sat against the interior wall. Along the wall that faced the driveway, a wall-to-wall counter supported the sink and provided four cupboards. Two separate wall cupboards hung on either side of the sink, allowing light through the kitchen’s only window. The refrigerator stood to the left of the arched kitchen entry, along with four more cupboards top and bottom. Standing free, the stove occupied the unclaimed space on the exterior wall. Just enough room separated the cabinetry from the stove to allow the bottom cabinet door to swing open. A garbage can hid between the stove and the door that lead to the wooden deck and backyard.

Overall, the exterior condition of the house didn’t match the inside. The exposed carpet in the living room looked worn but relatively stain-free. The walls and ceiling could use a fresh coat of paint, but with the string of switching roommates over the last five years, the landlord probably hadn’t had a chance.

Rachel concluded the tour on the back deck.

“We’ll take turns mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow, and since it’s only a one-car garage, we’ll switch parking, too. But we’ll work that out when it starts snowing.”

I nodded in agreement as I looked at our small backyard. A new looking barn-red wooden fence separated our yard from the neighbor’s behind us while evergreen hedges barred the rest of the yard from the neighbor’s on each side. With the deck and garage, there really wasn’t a lot of grass to mow in back, but the front yard made up for it a bit. It reminded me of the Newton’s place, and I suffered an uncomfortable moment of longing before I strangled the feeling.

During the tour, Sam had remained quiet as he followed us and scrutinized the house. Outside, he stood beside me, studying the backyard as well.

“Well, Gabby, looks like you’ll be comfortable here. I’d better start heading back. You need anything, let me know.” He patted my cheek and stepped off the deck, neither of us comfortable with drawn out goodbyes.

I watched him climb into his truck and waved when he looked back. Again, my emotions ran amuck for a few moments as he pulled away, nostalgia robbing me of my moment. I’d been so ready to leave and start out on my own I’d not inspected my feelings for Sam too closely. Now I knew. I’d miss him. A lot.

Rachel seemed to understand my mood as we went back into the house.

“You have a nice grandpa,” she said, sitting on my bed as I unpacked.

I agreed and tried to shake the unhappiness that lingered. Less than five hours ago, I had looked forward to making my own rules. Here, in this house, I had the freedom I’d wanted. No more obligatory weekends in Canada. No meeting men I didn’t want to meet. My internal pep talk began to work, and I started to unpack with more enthusiasm.

Rachel took a few of the wire hangers from the closet and helped hang the t-shirts I’d crammed into a bag.

“Please tell me there is more in these bags than t-shirts,” she said. “I don’t mind them—they’re comfy—but where’s the clothes for going out?”

“Um, I really don’t own any.” Watching her while I said it, I didn’t miss the shocked expression that briefly flitted over her features. I looked over my small pile of clothes, most of them already on hangers thanks to her help. They lacked diversity. I’d never noticed before.

She changed the subject. “Got your bathing suit handy? With the backyard surrounded, the deck is perfect for working on a tan. Join me when you’re done.” Without waiting for my answer, she popped up from the bed and left the room.

Bathing suit? I didn’t even own one. I finished unpacking and heard the back door a few minutes later.

Tucking my suitcase under the bed, I covered the mattress with the sheets from Sam. Instead of feeling sad, a new feeling bloomed. Resolve. I needed this, living here with Rachel, someone my own age. Well, close to it. And female. Normal things like lying out in the sun had escaped me over the years. She’d help me catch up. That she didn’t seem adversely affected by me, gave me hope. Granted, she hadn’t yet faced rejection from a man because of me. Maybe we could work on becoming friends first. Who knew, it could help prevent the ugly hostility I’d grown accustomed to. I liked the idea of having a real friend. Sure, I had Paul and Henry, but I wanted a friend of the same gender.

I changed into the shortest shorts I owned and a strapless top that Barb had given me for my eighteenth birthday. I’d kept in touch with my foster parents because of their insistence that I do. Even though they had a beautiful little girl of their own, they still thought of me, especially on my birthday. Feeling light at heart, I headed out to the deck.

Rachel turned her sunglassed-gaze my way when I closed the screen door.