"Is there room for one more?" asked Ben.
I lifted up my head to see him standing in the doorway in a pair of baggy sweats.
His hair was ruffled on one side as if he'd been lying down before he came up.
"If not, I can go--" "Come on in," rumbled Warren.
"I'll go take the upstairs guest room." Warren rolled off the bed, and Ben crawled on.
He put one foot on mine, then let out a sigh and collapsed like a puppy who'd been playing for too long.
Pack is for comfort when you hurt, I thought, putting my head back down.
And for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time ever, I appreciated being a part of one.
I WOKE UP BECAUSE THE TOP OF MY HEAD WAS TOO warm.
The sensation was vaguely familiar so I started to go back to sleep when sharp, pokey things started digging into my scalp.
And then I remembered why there shouldn't be a cat sleeping on my head.
I sat up and stared into the cool gaze of the slightly singed calico Manx who expressed her irritation with my abrupt change of position with an irritated meow.
She smelled of smoke, and there was a raw spot on the top of her back, but otherwise she seemed to be fine.
Adam didn't move, but Ben rolled over and opened his eyes.
"Hey, cat," I said, tearing up, as she adjusted to my new position and maneuvered herself so she was within easy petting distance of both Ben and me.
"I thought you were toast." She pushed her head under my hand and rolled so my hand slid through her coat.
Ben started to reach out, but stopped as soon as he moved his fingers.
They looked better than they had before--though they still looked like something that might appear in a horror movie."I didn't realize you didn't know," Ben said, his voice still rough.
"I should have told you.
Adam went to your room.
I went to Sam's and found her under the bed." I wiped my eyes and nose on my shoulder (both hands being occupied with cat and covered with cat hair anyway).
Then I leaned forward and kissed Ben's nose.
"Thanks," I said.
"I'd have missed her a lot." "Yeah." He stretched out on his back, hands carefully laid across his belly.
"We'd have missed her, too.
Only cat I've ever seen who tolerates werewolves." He sounded oddly vulnerable.
I don't think he was used to being the hero.
"Don't feel too flattered," said Adam dryly.
"Medea likes vampires, too." "Adam?" I said.
But he was asleep again.