His father suspected something was wrong, and I was pretty sure the reason Samuel was living with me and not in his own house in Montana was because he didn't want his father to know for certain how badly broken Samuel really was.
Samuel opened his door, looking his usual self, tall and rangy: attractive, as most werewolves are, regardless of bone structure.
Perfect health, permanent youth, and lots of muscle are a pretty surefire formula for good looks.
"You rang?" he said in an expressionless imitation of Lurch, dropping his voice further into the bass register than I'd ever heard him manage.
We'd been watching a marathon ofThe Addams Family on TV last night.
If he was being funny, he was all right.
Even if he wasn't quite meeting my eyes, as if he might be worried about what I'd see.
A purring Medea was stretched across one shoulder.
My little Manx cat gave me a pleased look out of half-slitted eyes as he stroked her.
As his hand moved along her back, she dug in her hind claws and arched her tailless butt into the air.
"Ouch," he said, trying to pull her off, but she'd gotten her claws through his worn flannel shirt and was hooked onto him tighter than Velcro--and more painfully, too.
"Uhm," I told him, trying not to laugh.
"Adam and I are going out tonight.
You're on your own for dinner.
I didn't make it to the grocery store, so the pickings are meager." His back was to me as he leaned over his bed so if he managed to unstick the cat, she wouldn't fall all the way to the floor.
"Fine," he said.
"Ouch, cat.
Don't you know I could eat you in a single bite? You wouldn't even--ouch--even leave a tail sticking out." I left him to it and hurried over to my own room.
My cell rang before I made it to the doorway.
"Mercy, he's headed over, and I've got some news for you," said Adam's teenage daughter's voice in my ear.
"Hey, Jesse.
Where are we going tonight?" Thinking of him, I could feel his anticipation and the smooth leather of the steering wheel under his hands--because Adam wasn't just my lover; he was my mate.
In werewolf terms, that meant something slightly different for every mated pair.
We were bound not just by love, but by magic.
I've learned that some mated pairs can barely perceive the difference .
.
.
and some virtually become the same person.
Ugh.
Thankfully, Adam and I fell somewhere in the middle.