Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (317 page)

On the way home, I stopped at a small grocery store to pick up some essentials. Browsing, I found a new bar of soap, an extra toothbrush, dog food, and groceries for the week.

Loaded down with the bags, it seemed to take forever to reach the house. When I finally got there, my arms ached. I would need to remember to bring one of my messenger bags if I ever walked there again. It made carrying things so much easier. I made my way to the back of the house and saw Clay sunning on the deck.

“Nice to know you can let yourself out,” I said as I walked past him. I nudged open the door and kicked it closed behind me. With a sigh, I put the bags on the table and began to unpack.

After a sharp bark from outside, I grudgingly turned to let Clay in.

“What? Can’t let yourself back in?” He didn’t respond, except to sit by the sink. I went back to the table and reached in one of the bags.

“Look what I got you?” I pulled out a small bag of dog food.

Clay growled again, but it lacked any menace.

“You want to look like a normal dog don’t you? Well... as normal as a dog your size can look, anyway.” I set the bag on the floor next to the bowl of water Rachel had set out for him and continued to unpack, saving the soap and toothbrush for last.

“These are for you. You have two choices. You can use them when Rachel’s gone, or you can wait until she’s back, and I’m sure she’d be happy to help you.”

He studied me for a moment then walked out of the kitchen, turning toward the bathroom. I followed a few steps behind.

A startled yelp escaped me when I rounded the corner and caught sight of a naked backside. Without much thought, I tossed the soap and toothbrush in and slammed the door shut.

“You could have waited until I put the stuff in there,” I said through the door as my heart thundered in my ears. I took a steadying breath and heard the water turn on, the clink of his dog tag hitting the sink, then the shower curtain move.

Who would have thought he would even know how to use a shower? I hadn’t. On the way home, I’d started to think of all the different things I would need to explain, like making sure to position the curtain inside the tub. Standing outside the door, still reeling from the view I’d gotten, I realized I might see the same thing again if I didn’t get him a towel.

I’d packed two bath towels. Purchased from a discount store, they both sported gaudy floral designs. I grabbed one and waited outside the door again until I heard him splashing in the shower. Then, I knocked.

“I have a towel for you,” I said through the door. “If you’re still in the shower, I can open the door and toss it on the toilet seat. Okay?” I didn’t hear anything. No surprise. “Okay, I’m coming in.” I waited a moment for any indication that I shouldn’t enter.

When the water continued to run, I cautiously opened the door. As soon as I saw a clear path to the toilet seat, I tossed the towel. Standing just inside the bathroom with my hand wrapped around the door handle for a quick exit, I paused. His new toothbrush rested on the sink.

“My toothpaste is the one marked with the pink nail polish on the cap. I’ll let you use it as long as you promise not to squeeze the tube from the middle.”

His answer took the form of an accurately aimed splash of water over the top of the shower curtain. I barely dodged it.

“You’re cleaning that up.”

I closed the door, grabbed a book, and went to the couch to wait. I hoped he would use the towel before he turned back into a dog. He’d make a mess if he shook out in there. After a minute, I actually opened the book and started to read.

Several minutes later, the water turned off. With my attention divided between listening and trying to associate an action to each sound I heard, I couldn’t concentrate on my book. A moment of silence. Then running water. It sounded like the sink. Brushing his teeth? Then silence again. It remained quiet until I heard the doorknob turn. Quickly, I held the book higher to block my view, just in case he chose not to wear his fur...or the towel. A chuffing bark, apparently his dog version of a laugh, had me lowering my comically high book.

He strolled over by me and hopped up on the couch. Incredibly, his fur looked even fluffier.

“Don’t get too comfortable, I don’t know Rachel’s rules about pets on the furniture.” I curled my legs under me to give him more room.

Forgetting myself, I leaned over to smell him.

“Much better,” I said straightening. At his intense look, I went back to reading my book and pretended I hadn’t just leaned over and smelled a man. We stayed like that, side by side in companionable silence, until lunch when both our stomachs rumbled.

On the way to the kitchen, I noticed his wet towel on the bathroom floor.

“Next time, fold it over the edge of the tub,” I said. The bathroom lacked any other available space to hang a towel, and I didn’t want his towel hung in my room, either. That seemed a little too domestic.

I made us both dry ham sandwiches. Dry because I’d refused to pay four dollars for a miniature jar of mayo.

“I’m guessing your bowl of dog food will always be full,” I said as I set his plated sandwich on the floor. Sitting at the table, I started to eat my own sandwich. He finished his in two bites.

“So, we have a week before my classes start up. What’s your plan?”

He cocked his head at me.

“Did you want to try to enroll in any classes? Study anything?”

He lay down on the floor next to his empty plate, eyeing it sadly.

“Okay...well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

I washed our dishes and went back to reading. Eventually, he joined me on the couch.

Later that night, Rachel breezed into the house and tossed her keys and purse on the table. She had a manly spiked collar in her hand along with a leash.

From my position on the couch, I watched her kneel down next to Clay, who stood near his bowl of water. I wasn’t sure, but she appeared to have interrupted his contemplations of drinking from the bowl. The thought made me smile.

Trying to ignore the pair, I focused on my book. Shuffling movements sounded from the kitchen. Rachel mumbled something that was too quiet to hear. When the noises didn’t stop, I went to investigate.

“This is a joke,” she said. She knelt in front of Clay, face to muzzle, trying to get the collar on him.

I laughed from the doorway as I watched them struggle. She would wrap her arms around his neck to buckle the collar, and he would duck or shift to avoid her but he never got up and walked away. I caught a twinkle of amusement in his canine eyes.

I knew Rachel wouldn’t give up getting a real collar on him. He needed proof of license. Yet, he appeared very determined to avoid the collar. It served him right. He was the one who chose to be a dog.

Rachel mumbled again, and I decided to take pity on her. I knew how to reason with him. If Clay ever wanted to leave the house with me, he had to have a collar. I just needed to point that out.

“Here.” I held out my hand. “I’ll try.”

“Good luck,” she said with a laugh as she got off her knees and handed me the collar. She took my position in the doorway.

“It was the biggest collar they had. I don’t even know if it fits, he won’t let me get close enough.”

With a half-smile on my face, I knelt in front of Clay. I liked that he had a sense of humor when he interacted with Rachel. It made having him in the house tolerable...almost. I looked him in the eye.

“Clay, if you want to be able to go anywhere with us, you need a collar we can clip a leash on. Not just the twine you have holding your tag around your neck.”

He didn’t move so I leaned forward and reached for the string that held his current joke of a tag. He held still for me while I removed the twine and replaced it with the real collar.

“At least it’s not pink,” I said and patted him before I realized what I was doing. I’d forgotten myself again and treated him like a dog.

I quickly stood and avoided Clay’s direct gaze.

Rachel laughed. “Hey, I wouldn’t do that to him. No pink for our man. I don’t know why he sat still for you and not me.”

I’d forgotten about Rachel. She moved to pet and praise him for his good behavior. If I wanted a chance of having a friend as a roommate, I knew I needed to deal with Clay as a pet. But, I needed to watch myself. The direction of my thoughts—his assumed permanent residency in the house—troubled me. Making him comfortable and buying him a license wouldn’t help me get rid of him.

Rachel gave him a kiss, and he sighed. Maybe, he’d grow tired of her affection and run back to Canada. I held onto that happy thought.

“He’s moody,” I said, looking into his eyes. Moody and stubborn with a quirky sense of humor. Not a good combination.

A
s soon as
Rachel sufficiently praised Clay for wearing the collar, she went to her room to change. From her room, she asked if I wanted to join her for a girl’s night out. She explained she typically didn’t stay in too much; when not busy working, her social life called. Still too unsure of our relationship—I didn’t want to risk having someone Rachel might be interested in hitting on me—I declined. Thankfully, turning down her invitation didn’t seem to bother her.

While Rachel exceeded my expectations as a roommate, adjusting to Clay’s presence was something else entirely. When I woke Tuesday, Rachel was already gone. Clay still lingered at the foot of my bed.

“Get out,” I said as soon as I opened my eyes. He left without complaint.

I took my time to dress, then went downstairs to check out the basement. Clay followed me. I tried to ignore him as I looked around. There wasn’t much to see. The washer and the dryer were right by the steps, and there were a few utility shelves against the walls for storage.

With nothing else to do, I decided to take advantage of my idle time by sunbathing. I walked back upstairs and went to my room to change. After our talk of the day before, Clay didn’t attempt to follow me.

The second time wearing the suit was a little less nerve-wracking. I didn’t stare nervously in the mirror and eye all the pale skin glaring back at me. Instead, I appreciated the vivid coloring on the suit. Rachel had good taste.

Intent on finding the beach towels Rachel had used, I opened the door and stopped short at the sight of Clay. His huge dog head moved up, then down, as his eyes traveled the length of my body. I flushed, slammed the door, and changed back into shorts and a tank top. I opted to cut the grass, instead.

Clay sat on the porch and watched me push the mower back and forth. When I moved to the front, he followed. He was never in the way, just always there. After I went back inside to read, he did disappear for a bit. He had apparently taken my complaint about his hygiene seriously and had chosen to shower again. I hoped he would make it a daily routine.

Since he’d bathed and given me privacy as I asked, I had no reason to complain when I went to my room that night and saw him lying on the foot of the bed. However, when I woke Wednesday morning with him lying next to me, I did complain. Lividly.

“Now, just hold on,” I whispered with a scowl. “You’re a dog. Act like one. Fur stays at the foot of the bed.”

He grudgingly moved to his place at the foot of the bed, watching me the whole time.

“Don’t give me your doleful eyes. This is your choice, not mine.” As soon as I said that, I recalled his talent for misinterpretation which had caused this co-ed housing in the first place. “Not that you’d get to sleep next to me in your skin either. So, don’t even think about it. If you don’t like the end of the bed, you can always sleep on the floor.”

A
fter getting the paper
, I scoured the classifieds for a beater car and found two promising ads. Both required a long walk. I fetched my bag, tucked the folded newspaper inside, and grabbed the house keys.

Clay beat me to the door. I scowled down at him. He stared back at me. After a moment, he shook his neck, jangling his tags. Defeated, I clipped on his leash. He negotiated well without using a single word.

I used my cell to call the number for the first ad. The man sounded a bit brusque as if my planned visit inconvenienced him. Shrugging it off, I led Clay to the address. A rusty car parked on the front lawn with a “for sale” sign affirmed I had the right place. Clay and I walked toward the car.

A man called hello from the open garage and made his way toward us. As he neared, his demeanor changed, and I inwardly groaned. He introduced himself as Howard and looked me over with interest. Clay moved to stand between us, his stoic presence a good deterrent.

Howard talked about the car for a bit, going through the laundry list of its deficiencies. Then he popped the hood so I could look at the engine. In the middle of Howard’s attempt to impress me with his vast mechanical knowledge, Clay sprang up between us. Howard yelped at Clay’s sudden move and edged away as Clay placed his paws on the front of the car to get a good look at the engine, too. I fought not to smile at the man’s stunned expression. At Clay’s discreet nod, I bought the car, not bothering with the second ad.

No matter what errand I wanted to run during that week before classes started, Clay insisted on tagging along. On Friday, when I drove to the bookstore, Clay rode a very cramped shotgun and waited in the car while I made my purchases. Later, he sat in the hot car again while I bought some basic school supplies.

However, Monday, when I tried leaving for my first class, I put my foot down. He bristled and growled and tried to follow me.

“Your license only wins you so much freedom. Dogs aren’t allowed on campus and definitely not in the classroom.”

Thankfully, Rachel left first and didn’t hear me scold him.

I tried to leave again, but he stubbornly persisted. Finally, exasperated, I reminded him that he slept on my bed because of my good grace. He resentfully stepped away from the door.

A
fter the first
week of classes, I didn’t have time to mind Clay’s constant attention. Maxing out at eighteen credits, desperate to get the general requirements out of the way so I could delve into clinicals sooner, I spent much of my day on campus in a classroom or in the library. When I actually found myself at home, I spent my time studying. I’d known when signing up for the courses that they would occupy all of my time and prevent me from having much of a life. Other than the fact I couldn’t get a part-time job while taking the overload, I hadn’t minded the commitment.

Even though I ignored him, Clay still stayed close to me. I realized how bored he’d grown when I came home and found one of my books on the couch, the bookmark on the wrong page. The next day, I took pity on him and brought back some books I thought might interest him. The one I thought particularly clever, about Flora and Fauna of North America, I included to remind him of home. He eyed the titles dispassionately. The day after, a bookmark nestled between the pages of two of the books.

I woke up one morning with a single-word note on my dresser. It simply said “mechanics.” The first stack of books lay next to the note.

I turned to glare at Clay, who still lounged on the end of the bed.

“So you can write words to me, just not speak them?”

He blinked at me.

“Whatever. You’re going to get caught creeping around the house at night.”

Later that day, I returned the books on forestry and wildlife and checked out several books on mechanics. For fun, I threw in a do-it-yourself book for home repairs.

T
he second Friday
after school began, I sat on my bed with the door to my room closed. Clay lay in his usual spot beside me, his eyes devouring the words of his current book. He’d spent enough time reading next to me that I’d grown used to our system, a nudge when he needed a page turned. Trying to turn the page with his nose hadn’t worked out well for him or the first book.

When he nudged me, I turned his page without looking up from my own book. When he did it again, I lifted my head. He read fast, but not that fast. He briefly met my eyes then turned toward the door. Just then, I heard the front door open, and I froze at the sound of Rachel’s voice.

“...and this is where I live. Please have a seat, and I’ll change quickly. My roommate and our dog should be around here somewhere.”

“No rush,” a man answered. “Our reservations aren’t until six.”

I turned wide eyes to Clay. Rachel had brought a man home? I didn’t have time to think about it further because she knocked on my door. I wanted to ignore it, but instead, quickly closed the book in front of Clay.

“Come in.”

Rachel walked in still wearing her scrubs. Her smile and flushed cheeks spoke volumes, as did the way she tactfully closed the door behind her.

“There you are. Come meet Peter.” She walked close and leaned in so she could whisper more. “Don’t kill me, but he has a friend without a date tonight, and I said I had a friend without a date tonight...please come with.”

I groaned quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Rachel. This won’t end well, and you’ll probably never forgive me.”

“Come on...please?” she said, sitting on the bed next to me. “I really like this one.”

“That’s the problem. Remember what I said? It’s always a guy that ruins a friendship. I don’t want to go out tonight.” I looked at Clay from the corner of my eye. He glared at Rachel. Not good. Too human. I nudged him with my foot while keeping my focus on Rachel.

“I like having a friend,” I said.

She smiled at me. “If he hits on you, then it wasn’t meant to be. Don’t worry so much.” She pulled me off the bed, and I reluctantly followed her out the door. Clay was close behind.

Peter, a pleasant looking man with light blonde hair and blue eyes, stood when we walked into the living room. He was an inch shorter than Rachel and, with his coloring, seemed her polar opposite. He immediately smiled at Rachel, and I could tell he had eyes only for her. I sagged with relief. His kind were rare.

“Peter, this is Gabby. Gabby, this is Peter. He’s going to med school. I bumped into him at the library last week. Peter, why don’t you tell her about Scott while I go get dressed?”

Rachel left the room in a rush, probably so I couldn’t retreat. I smothered a grin as I watched Peter’s gaze follow her. It took him a moment to collect himself.

“Nice to meet you, Gabby.”

“You too. Want to sit?” I motioned him back to the couch and took the chair for myself. Clay settled on the floor between us. “This is Clay.”

“He’s huge,” Peter said, appearing to notice Clay for the first time.

A huge pain in the butt, I thought without any malice.

“Yeah,” I said instead. “So, who’s Scott?”

“Oh, a friend of mine,” he said looking up from Clay. “He’s also in med school. We had plans to go to O’Donell’s tonight for dinner and a drink or two. Then, I ran into Rachel and invited her to join us. We thought it’d be more fun if you could come, too.”

Rachel waltzed back into the room at that moment. Amazingly, she had already changed into a skirt and complimenting silky top. She heard Peter’s last comment.

“Of course you will, won’t you, Gabby?”

Two love-struck fools, who wouldn’t even consider my presences if it weren’t for Scott, had me cornered. Rachel really didn’t know what she was asking of me. A public restaurant wouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet, as she watched me hopefully, I knew my answer.

“Okay...but I need to be home early enough to let Clay out.” A lame excuse, but I needed to prep the idea now so I would have an out later.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine for that little while.” Rachel waved her hand dismissively at Clay. Clay huffed, but she didn’t notice. Instead, she shooed me toward my room.

“Go get dressed.”

I stood to go to my room, but Clay leapt to his feet in front of me. I stepped to the right to go around him but he mirrored my move, blocking me.

Rachel laughed. “Come here, Clay. Come here and let Gabby get ready.” She squatted down and patted her leg.

I’d seen her do this a few times before. Usually, Clay grudgingly responded. Not this time though. He kept his gaze focused on me and copied my feinted attempts to get around him.

“I’ve never seen him act like this,” Rachel said to Peter.

I kept my narrowed gaze on Clay.

“I’m surprised you have such a wild looking dog. It seems too big compared to the house...and the two of you.” Peter eyed Clay, too.

Giving up, I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around his thick neck, pretending to hug him so I could whisper in his ear.

“I’m not crazy about the idea either, but you have to let me go and stop acting weird.” I pulled back. “Ready to be good, Clay?” I said as I stood and scratched him behind the ear just as a pet owner would do.

He turned and trotted into my room. Nope, not ready to be good.

Rachel laughed again. She knew I usually kicked him out when I wanted to change and had already teased me about it. I’d pointed out she wouldn’t know how awkward it felt because he never tried to watch her change.

Resolutely, I followed Clay into my room and closed the door. I could just barely hear Peter and Rachel talking as they waited for me. Clay sat on my bed, watching me.

I folded my arms and kept my voice low. “I am not changing in front of you.”

My words evoked an eerie canine smile from him, and he settled down onto my comforter and continued to watch me.

“Fine. I’ll change in the bathroom.”

I went to my closet and started looking at my clothes already knowing very few things in there compared to the style Rachel wore. The skirt I bought a few weeks ago would look nice but added to my pull, it would scream “hit on me.” Biting my lip, I reached for the skirt. Clay began to growl fiercely.

“Zip it,” I mumbled and grabbed one of the dressier tops I owned, a fitted cowl neck top with three-quarter sleeves.

Clay started barking, a deep menacing sound that raised the little hairs on the back of my neck. I spun toward him.

“What the hell, Clay? Cut it out.” I knew he didn’t like that because he got louder.

Rachel burst in without knocking, and Peter followed right behind her. Clay, who had been sitting at the end of my bed, sprang to his feet as soon as they entered.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel looked at Clay, who continued to bark at me.

If possible, his volume increased, and I had to yell over him.

“Nothing. Just give me a few minutes to calm him down, okay?” I walked to Clay with the clothes still under one arm, and he growled at me. I faltered and eyed him with a hint of fear.

“Uh, I’m not so sure you should do that right now,” Peter said.