Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (327 page)

Clay reached around me and set the pants on the towel. His sleeve brushed my waist, and his hair tickled my arm. When he straightened, he pulled back the curtain and held out a hand for me. Steam started to fill the air as I stared at him belligerently. Did he really think I’d undress all the way in front of him?

He continued to look at the wall, patiently waiting for me. The shivers grew worse, and I debated my stubbornness. With his hair pulled back, I could clearly see his eyes and knew he wasn’t peeking. Yet, I didn’t understand why he continued with his own pigheadedness and wouldn’t just leave to let me do the rest.

As if he read my mind, he nodded his head toward the shower and tapped the tub with his booted foot.

I looked down at the high ledge. The shivers prevented any coordinated movement. If not for Clay’s support, I would have fallen when stepping out of my pants. Suddenly, he made sense.

“You’re s-staying until I’m in? So I don’t fall?” I guessed.

He shrugged, and I knew I’d guessed right.

With a defeated sigh, I uncrossed my arms and clasped his hand. The showerhead angled toward the front of the tub so I could step in without getting my remaining clothes wet. He closed the curtain behind me, and I waited to hear the click of the door.

Once I knew he left, I finished undressing. I tossed my things on the bathroom floor and stepped into the hot spray.

It felt so good that I stayed there, just standing under the spray for several long minutes. My only movement was a slight side-to-side rocking motion to keep all of me as warm as possible. The shivers lessened but didn’t disappear. I began to worry they weren’t really due to the cold. My energy continued to drain , and my headache progressed to a steady thump. When I heard the click of the door again, I knew I’d pushed it.

“Clay?”

I heard a grunt, but peeked around the curtain to be sure. He held out a towel with his eyes closed. I turned off the water and grabbed the towel.

It took a moment to wrap the towel securely around me. Covered, I peeked out again. Clay faced the door but had a hand extended to help me. Clasping it again, I stepped from the shower. I was warmer but more exhausted than when I’d gotten in.

I hustled as best I could to my room. Clay remained outside the door as I threw on the warmest pajamas I owned and did my best to blot the water that dripped from my hair. My arms quickly grew too tired, and all the heat I’d gained from the shower left me. Giving up, I tossed the towel to the floor, crawled between the covers, and curled into a ball. I couldn’t even rub my feet together to try to generate more heat.

Clay walked in and turned off the lights. I listened to the familiar rustle of clothes. Instead of the usual bounce of him jumping up on the end of the bed, he peeled back the covers, and the bed dipped as he slid in next to me.

I didn’t bother to pretend I wasn’t interested in what he offered. Heat radiated from him, chasing the chill from the sheets.

“I really hope you’re wearing shorts or something,” I said with a slight slur. I stuck my cold feet right on his legs and shimmied over to his side to huddle against his warmth. Boy, was he warm. It didn’t matter, though. The shaking didn’t stop, but I was too exhausted to worry about it.

Sighing, I immediately fell asleep.

B
right light filled
the room when I peeled my eyes open, still barely conscious. I lay against Clay, basking in his warmth. My headache had faded from a steady thump to an annoying dull ache. I felt drained and very tired.

I tilted my head and met Clay’s observant gaze. Worry glazed the chocolate brown depths. I tried to swallow, but the muscles didn’t want to work.

“I’m thirsty,” I rasped.

He gently moved me and got out of bed. I closed my eyes; I didn’t want him to prove me wrong about the shorts. After a few seconds of silence, I forced my eyes back open. He stood next to the bed, holding out a full glass of water.

Shakily, I leveraged myself up on an elbow and grasped the glass. The cool water felt good going down. I drank it all and handed him the empty glass. He watched me curl up with my pillow.

I closed my eyes.

T
he next time I woke
, I checked my alarm clock. The red digits showed two in the afternoon. Turning my head on the pillow, I happily noted the absence of weakness and pain. Whatever I’d done to cause my sudden illness, over sixteen hours of sleep appeared to have helped.

Gingerly, so as not to bring my symptoms back, I boosted myself into a sitting position. Clay no longer lay beside me. I glanced at my closed bedroom door. He must have gotten bored watching me sleep. I didn’t blame him.

Although I could have slept longer, I pulled myself from bed. I grabbed my books then hopped back into my warm nest of blankets. Pillows stacked up behind me, I spread the work out. I’d lost a night and most of today because of the party. I couldn’t afford to lose more time. I still had a few assignments from Friday to finish. In addition, I needed to review the prior week’s materials to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

After about fifteen minutes, I smelled bacon. My stomach growled loudly. The aroma tempted me to leave my warm bed. As I sat thinking about closing my book, the door opened fractionally, and Clay peered in. When he saw me sitting up, he nudged the door further to show a plate of food and a glass of juice. His appearance ended my internal debate and saved me from exposure to the cold.

“Thank you. I’m starving.” I moved the book to the side, and he handed me the plate with a fork and set the orange juice on the dresser. I dug in right away, not realizing the extent of my hunger until the first bite touched my tongue. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast vanished in minutes.

Without a word, Clay handed me the glass of juice.

I drank it slowly, starting to feel the pull of sleep. Resisting it would prove difficult. I patted the bed next to me.

“Want to read by me?” Maybe company would help keep me awake.

He flashed me a smile, collected the dishes, and left the room. I heard him move around in the kitchen. The sound of running water had me wrinkling my nose; I knew I’d need to risk the cool air once again for a quick visit to the bathroom.

When I dashed back into my room eager for the warm bed, I saw Clay already lounging on the covers. He was reading a book.

We spent the rest of the day together in my room. Clay read next to me while I paged through notes and completed assignments. Each of the few times he left my side, he returned with a drink for me.

Near dinner, Clay closed his book with a snap and left the room. I heard Rachel’s car pull into the driveway a few moments later. Before I heard her car door close, he returned wearing his fur again. Somewhere in the house, Rachel would see a pile of clothes.

I grinned at him as he jumped up on the end of the bed. He settled with a sigh, and I stretched out to tuck my feet under his warm body.

M
onday morning
I felt better and got ready for class under Clay’s scrutiny. He didn’t voice any complaint when I left, but I knew he worried that a full day so soon after recovering would overtax me. And he was right. By the last class of the day, I wanted to go to bed.

Dinner waited when I got home; two steaming bowls sat on the table. I dropped my bag next to the back door and flopped into the closest kitchen chair. Soup. Perfect. Clay picked up my bag and carried it into my room while I started to eat. After the first bite, I eyed the contents. I couldn’t remember buying it and guessed he’d somehow managed to go grocery shopping.

He rejoined me and sat across the table. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Are you going to tell me about the coveralls or where you got the money for groceries?”

He shrugged in response.

Sighing, I pushed my bowl away. “I know I’m supposed to start asking you a bunch of questions, but I’m still too tired. Just don’t be doing anything illegal, ‘K? It would be hard to visit you in jail on top of school.”

I used a battered plastic container to put the rest of my dinner in the refrigerator and quickly washed the dishes, despite his silent protests. He dried. Skipping homework, I changed and went straight to bed.

A
fter another night’s sleep
, I felt more energetic and noticed more than I had the day before. The people I encountered during the day treated me indifferently. The continuation of the phenomenon I’d experienced at the party surprised me.

I saw Scott crossing the campus again. He only waved when he saw me and continued on to his destination. A friendly wave from one acquaintance to another. Confused, I made an effort to interact more. I smiled at the people I passed. I’d grown so used to the pull I had on men that it felt odd when they didn’t turn to look. Eventually, someone did stop me, another freshman, but he only wanted recommendations for a nice place to take a date. Why he stopped me out of all the other people drifting around on the campus grounds, I had no idea. However, it was the most normal, random conversation I’d had in my life, and I loved it.

Nicole caught up with me after our basic massage class and gave me the details of her weekend. Randy hadn’t forgotten her and had called her on Saturday to ask her out on a date Sunday night. She’d excitedly accepted.

“He was nice and everything, just not the way he normally is in class. He seemed a little more intense on the date. I talked to him before class today, and he seemed more like his old self. We’re going to go out again tonight.”

Then she told me about her walk across campus that morning. She’d turned down no less than eleven date requests and two blunt one-night stands. She giggled as she related the details, but the humor didn’t reach her eyes. I gave her a few pointers about keeping her physical distance if she didn’t want someone to bother her and to say no bluntly. She nodded her thanks.

I wished her luck and hurried home to tell Clay my suspicions. I felt sure that something had happened to make Nicole the magnet for unwanted male attention instead of me. The shock we’d felt seemed to have been the turning point. I wondered how long the effect would last.

R
ushing
through the back door with a smile on my face, I felt a stab of disappointment at the greeting I received from the dark and empty kitchen. I set my bag on the table and dug the leftover soup out of the fridge.

While I leaned against the counter waiting for it to warm, I wondered again about Clay’s coveralls. I’d never gotten an answer about them. He probably worked somewhere, which would explain the wallet with the GED and the driver’s license. But where? I could drive around and look for him, but I had no idea where to even start.

I sighed and settled at the table to eat and study. That he might have a job didn’t bother me. That he bailed on what I considered our dinner night without a note or warning, did.

When he wasn’t home by six, I decided to head to the library to work on my speech. I needed the reference materials for research.

Studying at the library without my pull thoroughly increased my efficiency. Thanks to the uninterrupted work, I finished my speech by eight and headed home.

The windows glowed with light, and I felt a spark of excitement. I really wanted to share my unusual experience at the library. However, when pulled into the driveway, I saw Rachel’s car already in the garage. It meant I couldn’t talk to Clay freely, but maybe I could still manage to whisper to him when we went to bed.

Inside, Rachel sat on the couch alone. There was no sign of Clay. She said she’d just gotten home and asked if I wanted to watch a movie with her. She didn’t mention Clay-the-dog so I told her I felt a little tired and went to bed early. I had no explanation for his disappearance and didn’t want her to worry. I hoped that she thought he was already on my bed.

T
he next morning
I woke snuggled up against Clay, who must have snuck in at some point during the night. Though Rachel had technically turned on the heat, she kept it low. It made Clay’s extra warmth nice.

When the sleep cleared enough from my head, I realized he laid next to me on his back...in man-form. I held still, trying to decide how I felt about it. When I’d been sick, he’d done it to help me. There hadn’t really been a choice. I wasn’t sick now. But he wasn’t being weird about it. So, should I really make a big deal out of it? I decided not to. Warm feet felt nice; a warm all of me felt better.

Considerately, he wore a shirt, and although I wasn’t going to check, I felt sure he’d included shorts. I shifted my head from against his side to look up at him.

He lay with both arms behind his head. His hair again covered the majority of his face. I thought he’d gotten over that phase. Since the party, he had kept it pulled back whenever he was Clay-the-man.

“It’s annoying not being able to see you,” I said in place of a good morning. I flipped to my stomach and propped myself up with my elbows to get a better look at him.

“If you don’t talk, and I can’t see your face, how am I ever supposed to figure out what you’re thinking?”

I reached out to move some hair out of the way, but he stopped me in a blurred move, catching my wrist gently in his hand. He didn’t let me any closer. First, he ditched me on dinner night then he wouldn’t let me touch him? The thought stopped me. I really hadn’t touched him before either, at least not as a man. Maybe he was like me, a little standoffish. I could understand that.

“Seriously, Clay, what kind of bribe is it going to take for you to get rid of some of that hair?”

He flashed his elongated canines at me again in explanation.

“Can’t we at least trim it back some?” Okay maybe a lot, but I knew to start with baby steps.

He tugged my hand to his chest, laying it flat. So much for my theory about not wanting to be touched. I patiently allowed it because with him, everything was guessing or pantomime. His chest warmed my palm.

Using his free hand, he tapped my mouth. I frowned, perplexed.

“What, you want me to be mute like you?” Was he hinting I talked too much?

He shook his head and reached out again. This time, he cupped my jaw and lightly ran his thumb over my bottom lip. The gentle touch caused the pull in my stomach to intensify. Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I read his intent.

“Whoa!” I scrambled out of the bed as if it had caught fire.

He stayed here I left him and turned his head to study me as I stood trembling beside the bed. I nervously rubbed a sweaty palm, the one that had moments before rested on his chest, against my leg. His whiskers twitched down. I couldn’t recall him frowning at me before.

I almost asked where that idea suddenly came from, but guessed it long overdue. According to the Elders, when an unMated male finds his female, he begins a courtship of sorts. The end goal is to Claim his Mate.

But Clay hadn’t courted me. He just lived here in his fur. And sometimes cooked for me. And sometimes helped me with chores...and when he wasn’t around, I felt disappointed and missed him. My fearful expression slackened to one of stunned amazement. He
had
been courting me these last few months. Clever dog.

Not comfortable with simple contact to begin with, I naturally balked at his request. Then I paused, reconsidering my hesitancy. Yes, I’d held myself back from everyone. Contact meant an emotional connection, either for me or for the other person. But Clay didn’t act like the rest. He wasn’t compulsively drawn to me.

Maybe I needed to stop treating him like the rest. Hadn’t I already started doing that? I’d sat next to him to watch movies, ate dinner with him, and, yes, technically snuggled with him at night. At least, my feet did regularly. And I had to admit, I liked looking at him—the parts I could see. Thinking of that caused a blush. I sent another panicked look his direction, but he remained motionless.

But he didn’t ask for just a simple kiss. Our current relationship placed so many strings on it. Strings I’d never before had to deal with. It definitely took us one step closer to Claiming in his book. As I thought of it, I realized my stance on Claiming had subtlety shifted. I wouldn’t mind having Clay around indefinitely. We meshed well together. But there still existed aspects of a werewolf relationship I wasn’t ready for. Like biting his neck hard enough to break the skin and establish my Claim. My eyes drifted to his throat. That didn’t sound like something nice to do to someone you cared about.

Clay waited patiently for me to consider his request. Would it really hurt to give in to just one little kiss? I wiped my hands on my pants again.

The male’s drive to Claim his Mate increased with each passing day, building to a compulsive need. There’d never been a courtship that lasted more than six months. Paul and Henry shared that tidbit with me long ago.

I calculated back and cringed. We’d just passed six months. He hadn’t pressed for anything from me in that entire time. I’d been so focused on school that I hadn’t given any thought to the Claiming stuff I’d learned other than to be glad he wasn’t pressing me.

I edged closer to the bed and touched my bottom lip, thinking. Was he struggling to hold back his aggressive side? Could that be why his canines were elongated more often than not? Had I put too much faith in his control? But the toughest question was if I trusted Clay. If I did give him what he asked for would it be enough to satisfy him or would he want more and then become unbearable to live with?

Glancing up at him, I considered my options while he continued to watch me in silence. I really wanted to see his eyes again.

“I have some questions before we talk about my bribe and your price.” I crawled back upon the bed and sat on my heels once I reached his side. “Will you try to answer my questions?”

He continued to watch me without answering.

“Are you able to physically speak?”

After a brief hesitation, he nodded.

“Are you ever planning on talking to me?”

He smiled wide and nodded again.

I nervously noted his teeth were bigger than they’d been a minute ago. My stomach did a flip, and I could feel the fading blush rekindle and spread across my face.

“Clay, were you asking for a kiss?” I had to know for sure.

He nodded slowly and reached out to twine his free right hand with mine. His thumb soothed the outside of my hand while he waited for me to decide what to do.

“Clay, I can’t even see your mouth to know where to kiss. I hope this bargain includes a shave.”

His whiskers twitched, and I guessed he smiled. He appeared laidback, completely calm as if my answer didn’t affect him at all. It bolstered my courage.

I let go of his hand and leaned forward, bracing myself on his shoulders. I could see the glint of his eyes as he watched my slow descent. My stomach churned with nerves and anticipation. Despite my teasing comment, I found his lips without any problem and lightly touched mine to them. His warm breath fanned my face, and I pressed closer. Something inside me melted a little.

Closing my eyes, I reached a hand up to gently brush against his face, exploring his brow, ear, and jaw. He changed the kiss by tilting his head slightly. His lips began to nibble at mine, slow and easy. My stomach dipped, and my heart started to flutter with desire.

When I realized how easy it would be to keep kissing him, desire changed to panic. I pulled away then gasped at the sight of the black eye I’d exposed.

“What happened?” I said, forgetting desire and panic. Then, thinking of Rachel I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I thought werewolves weren’t supposed to get hurt like this.”

Seeing his eyes again gave me a nice advantage. I easily read the frustration in them. Before he could try something else, I bounded off the bed again.

“A deal’s a deal. Go shower and shave. After you’re done, we can play charades until I have the story behind the black eye.” The stubborn look in his eyes had me adding, “That or I call Sam.”

I stayed well back while he ran his hand through his hair in agitation. Then he sighed and sat up. The flex of his abdomen under his snug shirt dreamily distracted me. When he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, he turned his back to me. Part of his shirt had ridden up exposing more bruises on his back.

Forgetting to stay away, I rushed around the bed. He heard me and stayed where he was. He didn’t fight me when I started tugging his shirt over his head, either. Numerous bruises covered his torso.

“What happened?” I demanded again. I nudged his right arm away from his side, saw a huge, ugly purple mark, and lightly ran my fingers over it. He held perfectly still for me.

“This is really scaring me, Clay. I thought werewolves were supposed to be this tough, nearly indestructible, race.”

I’d lost my mom to a car accident and my grandma to cancer. With no other family, I had endured as an orphan, truly alone in the world. Then, when I’d realized Sam’s plan to pair me with one of his kind, a single thought had resonated with me: If I found a werewolf Mate, he would never die on me and leave me alone.