Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (325 page)

“I’ve been like this my entire life, and I have more questions than answers about this second sight. Why are all humans green and yellow except Charlene and me? We’re human. Why does Charlene have a red halo? Or me an orange halo? The only similarities are the yellow cores. I’ve been thinking it means human, but don’t know what the halos mean.

“And I’m sure that you’ve caught on to the whole guy situation. I call to them somehow, as if I’m a beacon or something. Do I really send out some kind of signal?” I looked up at him questioningly.

He held a plate in each hand. Both loaded with some kind of chicken skillet dinner. He handed me a plate and studied me for a moment before shrugging and shaking his head.

“So nothing as far as you can tell. There’s got to be a reason, a connection to it all.” I sighed and played with the food on my plate for a minute, thinking.

“I’ve never told anyone all of this. People figure out there’s something different about me if they’re around me long enough. But no one knows about the lights. I’m torn. Do I call Sam and tell him everything? Do I tell him the light of the guy who challenged you is the same light as Joshua? There’s nothing concrete I can offer about the coloring or why I’m so worried about it.

“Why would a werewolf I’ve never met challenge you? And why does he share the same coloring as Joshua? So far, the lights have had a category: humans, werewolves, and compatible Mates. I don’t think the challenger and Joshua can be compatible mates because Charlene and I are uniquely colored from each other.” I shook my head to try to clear away my frustration at my inability to solve the puzzle.

Taking my first bite, I struggled to swallow the cold food. I looked up at Clay in surprise and saw his empty plate.

“Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t asked.”

He shook his head slowly still watching me. I started to doubt the wisdom of sharing so much with him. What if he started to treat me differently? I didn’t want to lose his friendship. It devastated me to think I could lose the one person with which I might have had a chance to be myself. When he didn’t say anything, I forced myself to eat.

He waited until I finished eating, took both our plates, and cleaned up the kitchen while I sat at the table and did my homework. The spatter of running water, the soft clicking of dishes, none of it distracted me as much as my own doubts. Uncertainty over what I’d just shared and his lack of response ate at me. Granted, he hadn’t spoken to me at all
before
my announcement, but still.

When he finished, he left the room for a few minutes. His nails clicked on the kitchen floor as he padded back in. I didn’t have time to wonder why he’d changed to fur. He nudged my arm with his head and looked toward the living room. The tightness in my chest, which I hadn’t even noticed, loosened slightly. He watched me expectantly, and I ran my fingers through the fur at his neck, hoping he wouldn’t ever act like a real dog and run away from home.

Deciding I’d done enough, I packed up my homework and followed him. We watched some sitcoms then called it a night.

When he curled on his usual spot at the foot of my bed, I sighed and closed my eyes. He hadn’t seemed to treat me any differently after I told him everything. I hoped it would stay that way.

Rachel came home after a very late evening shift at the hospital. I knew she was alone because Clay only shifted on the bed to acknowledge he’d heard something. The nights Peter stayed, Clay grumbled a bit. They probably did keep him awake. Poor Clay.

S
eptember passed in a blur
, taking most of October with it.

While on campus, I still struggled to fend off a few stragglers who hadn’t yet grasped the concept of no. Thankfully, those stragglers didn’t include Scott.

At home, Rachel and Peter were inseparable even though they made a big fuss about giving each other their own time. It just meant they only did overnights three times a week. It limited my quiet time with Clay, but we managed.

On Rachel nights, Clay-the-dog usually waited for me by the back door. Occasionally, I came home to an empty house. Those absences explained why he no longer consumed five books a week, but they did make me wonder how he spent his time when we weren’t together. When I tried to ask where he went, he never answered.

I began to notice things, though, like he now owned more jeans—I’d only bought him one pair—and had a few new shirts. Despite the extra clothes, he still seemed to favor the ones I’d gotten him, especially the flannel shirt.

On nights we didn’t expect Rachel home, Clay-the-man waited for me. He was never missing for those nights. Tuesdays, still one of the nights Rachel stayed over at Peter’s, Clay did laundry for me if I forgot to do it before then and always had dinner ready when I came home.

He still didn’t talk when he was in man-form, but I gradually learned more about him through many well-phrased questions. I guessed at his favorite color for over a minute. Pink...naturally. What guy wouldn’t have a feminine stereotyped color as a favorite? I gave up trying to guess
why
it was his favorite after twenty minutes.

I also found out he liked to try new foods and made it a point to bring home one unique food item each week. Fruits like pineapple and kiwi disappeared quickly. Vegetables like okra and Brussels sprouts...well, I laughed long and hard when I watched him eat those.

Besides the new clothes that he mysteriously acquired, I also came across his wallet on my dresser. Since he’d been crouched right behind me when I spotted it, I’d peeked inside. He could have barked or something to tell me to stop, but he didn’t.

The contents of his wallet had been informative. On his driver’s license, he looked just as scruffy—except with a clearer view of his eyes. I’d stared at that photo until his laughing penetrated my fascination.

Behind the license, I found a folded copy of his GED transcript. With a few questions, I discovered that his dad, now deceased, had taught him how to read at an early age. The education he’d received essentially comprised of home schooling. When I asked him how he managed to get his GED and a driver’s license without speaking, he stopped communicating with me for the night. Moody.

The glimpse at his eyes in the photo started me back on the “off with the beard” kick. His standard response was to bare his teeth. Darn canines. But, in a way, his consistent answer proved to me that telling him about my abilities had no noticeable effect on our relationship, other than to open a floodgate in me. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from sharing all the weird or exciting things that happened to me on campus—the only time he couldn’t shadow me.

When I talked, he sat and listened, always giving me his full attention. I’d grown so used to his attentiveness that he confused me one day when he abruptly walked away after I told him I’d been invited to a Halloween party.

I’d wanted to tell him more, like it was Nicole from my basic massage class who had asked me. Her reason for the invitation was pretty simple. A guy from our class, who she really liked, planned on attending, and she didn’t want to go alone. Everything in me had cringed at the idea of a party so I’d told her I’d never been to one because of the way guys acted around me. She’d admitted to noticing but that didn’t change her insistence that I attend. Her acceptance of me felt good. Yet I had to point out the obvious. Having me along could back fire. The guy she liked could start bugging me again. He’d tried for the first two weeks of class before giving up. She didn’t care. She wanted the support.

However, after Clay walked away from me, I didn’t mention it again.

T
he last Saturday in October
, I found myself getting ready for a party instead of studying.

Clay grumbled, making it pretty clear what he thought of me going.. I’d borrowed some of his clothes, the stuff that would fit without falling off, and slicked back my hair under a ball cap. Then, I used some funky hair gel from Rachel to comb a portion of my hair to look like pork chop sideburns. While that dried, I began the process of penciling in some thick, manly eyebrows. Clay stood on the bed behind me so he could watch my progress in the mirror.

“What do you think?” I asked, turning to Clay.

He grumped again then jumped off the bed to leave. Obviously not a fan.

“Rach?” I called to let her know I’d finished. She’d started as my costume consultant until she presented me with a skimpy dress from her closest and suggested that I go as a call girl. I’d kicked her out then. Clay had looked ready to rip apart the dress.

The door flew open, and only Clay’s agile reflexes saved him from a concussion.

“What the hell did you do?” she said after she took one look at me. Her shocked expression was priceless.

“I’m going for dude. It’s safe, right? What guy is going to want to hit on a guy even if he knows that underneath, it’s a girl? Guys get weird about that stuff.” I thought I looked pretty authentic. My layered clothes safely hid any curves I had.

“You know what’s going to happen?” She sat in the middle of my bed. “All the guys are still going to be attracted to you. Only they’re going to freak out because you’re going to make them think they’re gay, and you’re going to get your ass kicked tonight.”

Clay let out a yowl that sounded like “that’s it” and ran from the room.

Rachel stared after him. “I love that dog, but he creeps me out sometimes.”

“Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t be trying to teach him to say ‘No way’. I thought it’d be cool to train him to say it to guys, but I guess it’s encouraging him to make other sounds, too.” I hated lying, but Clay had just acted much too human.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were doing that. Still...weird.” She smiled and got up from the bed.

She’d told me earlier that she planned to stay in. I had a feeling Peter would arrive soon. Like magic, someone knocked on the back door.

“I got it,” Rachel said as she bounded out of the room.

Shaking my head, I checked myself one last time. I didn’t think I’d get my butt kicked...I hoped not anyway. I looked at the clock, expecting Nicole shortly. Nicole wasn’t as close to me as Rachel but she still seemed to genuinely like me despite the attention I usually received.

We’d decided I would drive in case fate smiled upon her, and she managed to hook up with the guy she liked. To make it easier to keep an eye on her, I’d suggested she drive here. That way I could see when she came home like a nosey friend should do.

“It’s for you, Gabby!” Rachel called from the kitchen. A hint of laughter laced her voice.

I moved toward the kitchen, wondering why Nicole had gone to the back door. When I saw who stood just outside, I stopped abruptly.

He stood motionless in the yellow glow of the porch light. The blue coveralls he wore had the name Clay sewn on the right pocket. Spattered patterns of grease stained the material, and one arm had a tear, making the getup look far from new. I’d never seen the coveralls before but didn’t give it much thought as I stared at his face. I could actually see it. Well, sort of.

Our eyes met, and I couldn’t look away. He’d pulled his hair back into a ponytail, fully exposing a broad forehead, nicely shaped eyebrows, and thickly lashed brown eyes, for the first time. His beard covered most of his cheekbones, but everything above his upper lip, he had trimmed shorter.

Stunned, I said nothing in greeting. I could feel Rachel’s curious gaze flicking between the two of us. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and I knew he smiled at my reaction. It warmed my stomach and set my heart fluttering.

Thankfully, Nicole chose that moment to knock on the front door.

“I got it,” Rachel said, breaking the spell Clay’s sudden appearance had cast. She rushed from the room.

Breaking eye contact, I looked at his uniform. “You have some explaining to do, I think.” My heart still fluttered as I turned away from him.

“I love your costume,” Rachel gushed from the other room.

I turned the corner then smiled in awe of Nicole who was dressed as a mermaid in all its shimmering beauty. The modified silky green body-hugging evening gown included a tail-like train. I anticipated people would repeatedly step on the end of her dress the whole night. A heart-shaped neckline adorned the sleeveless top. She’d altered it to make it appear as if she wore a bikini top. When she turned to give Rachel the requested full view, I also saw a cute fin strategically placed on the back just above her butt. A tasteful dusting of glitter decorated her sleek, straight hair.

“You’re gorgeous Nicole,” I said. “Are you going to be warm enough?” Both she and Rachel laughed at me. “Hey, it’s a valid question. It’s the end of October for Pete’s sake.”

“I’ll be fine.” She looked at Clay and smiled warmly. “Hi, I’m Nicole.”

Clay nodded and stuck out a hand. She clasped it.

“Uh, this is Clay,” I said for him. “He doesn’t talk much. And this is Rachel, my roommate. Are we ready?” I didn’t want to give Nicole or Rachel a chance to comment on Clay’s quiet presence.

“Sure. I parked on the street.”

“Great. Let me grab my keys.” I turned in time to see Clay already walking into the kitchen.

Because of his head start and longer stride, the storm door was just closing behind him when I reached the kitchen. The car keys I’d wanted to grab no longer rested on the counter. Outside, an engine started. I peeked out the window and saw him sitting behind the wheel of my idling car.

He stunned me with his sudden appearance, distracted me from a vital question—how did he have coveralls with his name on them?—with the first real look at his face, and now sat in my car ready to play chauffeur.

Slowly retracing my steps, I listened to Nicole explain how she’d made the costume herself.

“Nicole, if it’s all right with you, I think Clay wants to come with. The way he’s acting, I don’t think he’s ever been to a Halloween party and is curious.”

“It’s fine with me,” she said with a smile as she moved to follow me to the kitchen. “Are you two dating?”

“Don’t you dare say you are,” Rachel said from behind her. “He’s almost never here and when he is, he doesn’t talk and he leaves early. That’s not dating.”

Since I hadn’t told Rachel Clay appeared most Tuesday nights, I kept quiet. Better to just leave her with the impression she had than to try to explain our odd relationship.

“So, he’s available then?” Nicole said.

“If you’re asking my permission to make a move, go for it. Just don’t be disappointed. I don’t think it will go far,” I said as I walked out the door. Giving her permission to hit on Clay didn’t sit well, yet how could I not give it when I wasn’t interested in making a move...right?

We hurried to the car. I sat up front with Clay, and Nicole shimmied into the back seat alone. I turned in my seat to look at her as Clay put the car in reverse.

“I don’t know where we’re going. Just tell Clay where to turn and be sure to give plenty of warning. This is the only car I have for the winter.” I was nervous about Clay’s driving experience. He had never answered how he’d gotten his license.

Clay expertly backed out of the driveway. Listening to Nicole’s directions, he got us to the party in less than fifteen minutes. We couldn’t park within a block of the address, therefore Nicole shivered as we walked. Within two blocks, I spotted the obvious party house. Music blared, ghosts hung from every tree in the yard, and I thought I saw a keg on the porch. So this was a college party? It looked interesting. People crowded the front lawn in groups that overflowed into the neighbor’s yard.

As we neared, predictably, men turned to stare. Their eyes drifted to me, their expressions turned to confusion, then they looked at Nicole.

I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“I knew you would make this fun,” Nicole said with a laugh. “Oh, I see him on the porch. Do you think I should say hi?” Her teeth chattered though she maintained a brilliant smile.

“Let’s push our way through the crowd and get inside. We can warm up for a minute. It’ll be more attractive if you’re not stuttering with cold.”

Clay didn’t wait, but took my hand and guided me through the crowd. Nicole followed in our wake. People moved for Clay, and it didn’t take us long to reach the door where a man stood selling cups for three dollars. We declined and went to find a place inside.

The bass of the music echoed in my ribcage. Good thing Clay wasn’t a talker. I would never hear him, even though he could probably hear me. I wondered how his sensitive ears handled the volume.

He kept hold of my hand and pulled us through the crowded entry into an equally crowded living room. He forced his way between people to reach the small couch then paused in front of it to glare at the two male occupants. They uneasily stood and left, making room for us to sit. Nicole and I sat while Clay perched on the arm right next to me.

Nicole warmed as I looked around. From the decimated state of the snack table, the party had started a while ago. That also meant the majority of partygoers were drunk. One guy caught me looking around and made his way over.

The man stopped right in front of me and swayed slightly on his feet. I didn’t look at him, but watched Nicole’s face as her eyes darted to the man.

The music decreased in volume as a ballad came on.

“Hey...wash shore name?” he asked, his articulation long gone.

“Go away.” I spoke clearly and rudely, knowing he wouldn’t even remember in the morning. It didn’t seem to faze him in the least.