I tried not to think about the mess. Or the wereraccoon. I’d first found him riffling through our garbage a month or so back. Since then he’d periodically hid, watching us, in the tall, dense firs surrounding our house. Was it creepy? Oh yeah. Did I want him around us? No. But he’d been one of many supernaturals who had shown up since my sisters and I were “outed” to the mystical community. And unlike the other audacious idiots I pounded, this guy seemed . . . skittish.
Streaks of blood and pus ran from the thick brush behind our house and up the porch steps to the body. The were’s feet hovered over the threshold while the rest of his na**d body lay facedown across our dark chestnut wood floors. Blond curls stuck to his scalp. His head twisted in an odd angle and his eyes stared blindly beneath our couch. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, like me. Too young to die, especially like this.
Our training as nurses drove us to try to save him. But his throat had been slit where his pulse should have drummed, and the pungent scent of death told me there was nothing left to save. I didn’t have many friends. And I had the feeling the wereraccoon hadn’t had any.
Shayna played with her phone. She’d taken one look at the body and called her behemoth werewolf boyfriend right away. Since then she hadn’t stepped anywhere near the were and had kept her eyes averted. She knew as the earth’s guardians, her boyfriend and his kind would take care of it. Or maybe it was the pus. Shayna and I delivered babies for a living. While we dealt with other body fluids, pus never reared its ugly head. “Koda says they’re almost here . . . and that Aric says not to do anything stupid.”
Aric. His name filled me with heat while chills shot down my spine. I wanted to see him. I just wasn’t exactly ready. And I especially wasn’t ready for him to find me standing over a corpse. Again. “Aric’s coming?”
Shayna nodded hard enough to make her silky black ponytail bounce behind her. “He cares about you, Celia. He wants to make sure you’re safe.”
The cool April breeze swept through the opened door, sending goose bumps scurrying from my arms up to my neck. I wrapped my bare arms around my body. I usually dressed in a tank and jogging shorts when I went for my run; otherwise my inner tigress made me unbearably hot. But standing still did nothing to warm me. She flicked her tail inside me, excited to see Aric’s wolf. I only wished my human side shared her enthusiasm. “I doubt he cares as much as you think,” I muttered.
“Aric hasn’t called?” My sweet sister, Emme, curled her arms around mine. She reminded me of Natalie Portman—pretty, gentle, and soft-spoken. I almost smiled. Against my gold skin tone and lean muscles, her fair skin appeared lighter and her delicate arms more fragile.
A twinge of her pale yellow healing light that matched her hair slowly built until it completely enveloped us. I shook my head. “Don’t, Emme.” She attempted to soothe my emotions with her healing ability—the way she did my physical wounds. But disappointment was nothing to heal, rather just something to get over. “I’m not mad at Aric. You don’t have to calm me.”
Emme released me, sympathy further softening her gentle green eyes. She nodded and leaned against the back of our sofa, smoothing the skirt of her long blue dress.
Shayna frowned and stepped toward me, but apparently she was too close to the body. She backed away again and tucked her iPhone into the pocket of her jeans, fiddling with the holster of her sword as she spoke. “But you said Aric’s texted you quite a bit.”
Shayna’s glass remained perpetually half full and often overflowed with hope. I supposed it complemented her perky cheerleading persona. Me? No one would have referred to me as perky, and let’s just say my cup didn’t runneth over. “Only to tell me he’d call soon, but we haven’t spoken since . . . you know.” I didn’t want to mention the morning I’d woken in bed with Aric’s arms holding me tight. Good grief, had that only been a little over a week ago? I was trapped inside a burning mansion with a psycho master vampire. Aric had saved me from being burned to cinders.
My fingertips swept absentmindedly over my lips. He’d kissed me long and hard that morning. And I willingly returned his affections. My heart pounded, my skin sizzled, my body begged for his . . . and then he jerked out of bed and left. Just like that. Without explanation. Without a good-bye. Just a promise to call. The wandering hands I expected never explored, the tongue I wanted to skim along my flesh never tasted past my lips, and the werewolf I expected to stay in bed with me didn’t bother. Despite the record-breaking heat between us, we hadn’t made love. Maybe it was better. I’d only had sex three times in my life, when I was seventeen. And while the experience could be described as sweet, the words “awkward” and “clumsy” also came to mind. I still remained unsure whether the first time even “counted.”
Shayna leaned on the cream-colored couch next to Emme, a safe distance away from our deceased guest. “Aric’s probably just been busy, dude,” she offered.
“Koda calls you every day, throughout the day.” And spends every night with you, I didn’t add.
Shayna’s bright smile and blue eyes lacked their famous sparkle. “Koda’s neither a pureblood nor a Leader like Aric. He doesn’t have the responsibilities Aric has.”
“Nor does he have to answer to his Elders for dating outside his race.” I knelt over the body, my anxiety over the wolves’ arrival riling my beast.
Taran tossed her midnight waves so they fell behind her shoulders. Since first realizing Shayna called Koda, she’d rushed to change out of the camisole she’d slept in and now donned a chic pale olive dress and silver gladiator sandals that added four inches to her five-foot-three frame. She’d dressed for Gemini, Aric’s Beta. Taran’s blue eyes peered beneath the shroud of thick lashes she’d inherited from our Latina mother. “It could be worse. He could pat your damn head.”
Taran’s allure crushed men like potato chips. You know those women men ignored their dates to ogle? Taran was one of those. She could have had any male she wanted. Anyone, but Gemini, it seemed.
Emme placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness. Is Gemini still petting you?”
Taran twirled her platinum and diamond bracelet—a gift from Misha. “Yup. Just last night.”
“Do you think perhaps it’s a wolf thing?” Emme offered.
Taran dropped her hands to her sides. “Does Liam pet you—on the couch, in bed, in the tub—ever?”
Emme blushed. “Um, well, no—”
Taran turned to Shayna. “How about Koda? Any head rubbing going on?”