Captive Mate - Eliot Grayson Page 0,68
coffee table with a flourish, like he was presenting me with a gold watch for my years of service.
Socks. Well, I’d been given stranger things, and these were obviously important to Ian.
I picked them up carefully and took a look. They were full of magic; I could tell that at a touch, and I’d have been able to see it if I’d bothered. I was still magically worn out from the night before, though.
“Thanks. I’m — uh, I’m really — honored.” Was that the right response to being given a pair of enchanted black cotton socks?
Apparently it was close enough, because Ian nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Help yourself to whatever’s in the bathroom.”
I escaped in there with Nate’s clothes, including the socks, and took him at his word. He had surprisingly nice shampoo. My long hair used up a lot of it. I used the time I spent working it through all the tangles to brood over Matthew dumping me off here with Ian and Nate and not even bothering to check on me in the morning.
I stuffed my filthy clothes into the bathroom trash and stepped out clean, refreshed, and in an incredibly foul mood.
Ian was puttering around making coffee, and Nate was still dead to the world. But not dead, and that lifted my spirits a little.
“If you want to fill me in on what happened last night I can just take off from here,” I told Ian. “My car’s still where I left it, right?”
I sat down on the couch and started to lace up my boots.
Ian paused his coffee-making to frown at me. “Long story short, Colin Kimball took over his pack and ousted his father. And you need to take that spell off of Matt before you go anywhere,” he said. “I mean, come on, he killed that asshole who was after you. We’re not holding you prisoner. After you saved Nate’s life, I owe you mine, and I’d defend you to the death no matter what water’s under the bridge. We’re your allies, even if you’re not ours. So take off the damn spell, okay? You’re not gaining anything by leaving it on him. You don’t need an insurance policy.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake… “It’s already —” I cut off with a sigh. Why fucking bother? I’d end up having to see Matthew anyway. And…maybe I had to for my own sake, so I could see his indifference to me and let it really sink in. “I’ll go over to the pack house before I leave.”
I finished with my boots and crossed to the bed, glancing warily at Ian as I did. He just quietly poured hot water into the coffee filter setup, like a recently enemy shaman standing over his unconscious mate wasn’t anything to get worked up about.
Like he trusted me.
I swallowed down the little lump in my throat. We’re your allies, even if you’re not ours. I’d never had allies. Never had someone I could count on since my brother’s past had caught up with him, forcing him to leave me. If another Parker attacked me, I could call Ian — and he’d take my call. Show up and fight for me. It was the difference between standing on the edge of a precipice in a high wind, every moment of balance a struggle, and having a brick wall suddenly appear at your back to lean on.
Without disturbing Nate’s nest of blankets, I laid my hand gently on the side of his head. He let out a little murmur but didn’t stir. It only took a moment to double-check what I’d already known: he was tired, and his magic was depleted, but his body was perfectly whole and healthy.
“He’s fine,” I said, taking my hand away. I was almost reluctant. Nate’s hair was soft, and he was warm, and non-sexual, non-threatening human contact — and a lot of my human contact was both sexual and threatening — was something I missed. “Make sure you save some of that coffee for him, though. He’s going to need it.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “Believe me, that’s a lesson I learned the hard way.” He paused, fiddling with a couple of mugs on the counter, and staring down at them like he couldn’t quite look at me. “By the way, you want some?” I shook my head. I didn’t like coffee — it tasted like rancid mice. “Okay. But look. You know, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t stick around. If you’re not sure where you’re going