Immune (22 page)

Alex went with him, tail drooping and a grumble under his breath. I gave him a wave and a smile, grateful that O’Shea was willing to help out with Alex. I moved deeper into the house, burying my bare toes into the lush carpet of the living room. The floor was warm; it had to be in-floor heating, which was a nice perk.

The main living area was as tastefully decorated as the kitchen, the colours shifting into rich hues of mahogany and cream with one wall covered in a painted scene taking up the whole thing. I moved closer to the painting. A lone tree painted with broken and gnarled branches, it was nearly sheared through the middle, either by fire or ax, I couldn’t tell. Leaves scattered on the ground and the moon—glimpsed between scattered clouds—were the main focal points, besides the tree itself. But the longer I looked, the more I saw. Bats, an owl hidden in the branches, even shoots of new life peeking out through the fallen leaves, the distant silhouette of a wolf. A wave of nostalgia rose within me, a desire for something more than what I had with my life. For some reason the painting made me think of my lack of family, about how my life was never really my own. Not that I would have it any other way.

“You like it?” O’Shea said from behind me. I let out a slow breath, breathed in the scent of wet dog.

I stalled. “Did Alex behave?”

“Yes, I left him in the mudroom to dry off some,” he leaned closer. “The painting, do you like it?”

Why did it matter? So I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s okay.” I sure as shit wasn’t going to tell him about the emotions it evoked. I shifted on my feet, uncertain where this was going, if anywhere. I was in his house and I was uncomfortable.

His hands settled on my shoulders, “I’m sorry for screwing things up. I know that I could have handled it better.”

He was apologizing? Very slowly I relaxed into his arms as he pulled me tight against his chest.

“I don’t do secrets. And I don’t do possessive jealousy,” I said, my fingers finding the edges of his hands.

“I’m not keeping secrets, I just . . .” he paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I’m just struggling with this world you’ve shown me. It doesn’t follow the rules I understand.”

Very gently, he kissed the side of my neck. “Rylee, please, give me a second chance.”

I melted against him, his voice and the emotion in it undoing whatever resolve I’d had. “Damn it.” I turned in his arms, our lips seeking each other out. With him, I was weak, could feel the desire crush my conviction that being right was better.

Lifting me up in his arms, he walked us to the bathroom. A two-person shower inlaid with gray and white river rock beckoned and we obliged. He scrubbed my back and I scrubbed his, our hands pausing to caress and touch, our lips following suit. Underneath it all, the pain of losing Ricky rose up in me, Liam’s hands soothing the path for the tears that were soon falling. The steady stream of hot water, his body shaped around mine, he kissed away the pain. Guilt, my nearly constant companion, rode me hard, whispered to me that I would never wash it away, no matter how much I tried. Berget’s death would always be on my shoulders, and with each subsequent child I lost, I pulled further away from redeeming her death.

“You can’t save them all.”

He was right, and I let out a deep, hiccupping sigh. No point in agreeing but my heart still wanted to believe I could save them all. So I changed the subject.

“You know how many people see me cry?” I hid my face under the hot water.

“I’m betting less than you can count on two fingers.”

A ruthful chuckle escaped me, and I moved as if to step out of the shower.

Liam’s hands stopped me, settling into the crook of my waist. “Come here.”

With a gentle pull, he brought me back to him the hot water sluicing around us as he picked me up and settled me on his hips. Like I weighed nothing; not that I’m a beefy girl, but damn.

His skin was hot against mine, hot and slick with water and soap.

Curling my legs around him, I held him tight, as he pressed my back against the cool tiles and plunged into me. My gasp turned into a groan as his hips pumped, bringing me to a climax with an ease and speed that was a little frightening. In some ways he knew my body better than I did. Holding me against the tile with his body, our breathing harsh in the confines of the stall, his hands traced down to mine, our fingers tangling. Dark eyes met mine, am emotion flitting through them I rarely saw. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

I was surprised he would even ask. “No, I’m hardly a china doll.”

Smiling, the worry in his eyes eased, shifting once more to desire. His lips found mine, the taste of his mouth a slice of heaven I couldn’t seem to get enough of. In a matter of minutes we were back where we started, bodies surging toward one another. I would take every minute of this and the inevitable soreness that would come later. He was worth it and then some.

Finally, after much persuasion, Liam let me out of the shower, though he made one last attempt to drag me back in. Smiling, I side stepped his hands and dried off before he could snatch me back to the heat of the water and his body. It was harder than it should have been to walk out of the bathroom. For the first time, I felt good after a salvage gone bad. Because of Liam. Shit, I was so falling for him. I smiled at the thought, not bothered by it as I would have been once. Wrapped in a thick, plush towel I made my way out to the living room.

Which was as we’d left it, with one snarling addition.

A low rumble filled the room. I turned my head to see Alex on all fours, back hunched, tail and fur stiff. Teeth bared, he continued to growl, his eyes locked on O’Shea who’d stepped up behind me.

Angry werewolf, small space, bad combination. I made a move as if to intersect, but O’Shea stopped me, putting me behind him.

“He can’t keep acting like you are property. He’s not the top dog here.” Oh, for . . . would the gods ever show me some mercy and let me deal with minor egos for once?

“At this point, it doesn’t matter. One bite and you’ll be turning furry.” That was if Alex didn’t lose his shit and go mental. I really, really did not want to be forced to kill Alex. Just the thought made me choke up.

“Alex, settle down.” I put myself back between the werewolf and O’Shea. “I mean it!”

But he didn’t settle down. Quite the contrary. “No biting,” he growled out, then leapt forward, knocking me behind him. I hit the floor, more shocked than anything, my towel slipping open. Alex grumbled his way over to me, casting dirty glances over his shoulder at O’Shea. With two claws, he pulled my towel back up, covering me. “Rylee loves Alex.”

I closed my eyes, and bowed my head. How was I going to explain this one?

Alex gave a yelp, and then a baritone growl filled the air. My eyes flew open, but my brain couldn’t quite make sense of what I was seeing.

O’Shea had Alex lifted off the floor by his neck, and had pinned him against the wall. That was weird enough on its own.

“Alex sorry!” The werewolf yelped, writhing hard against O’Shea’s hands. “Sorry! You Boss!”

His tail was tucked up through his legs and he started to pee, urine dripping off his fur. I scrambled to my feet, the low growl still rumbling in the room . . . from . . . Liam?

I put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched as if I’d hit him, turning dark eyes to me—dark eyes swirling with flecks of gold. I kept my hand on his shoulder; the last thing he needed was for me to pull away. Shit, shit, shit! When had Alex bitten him? Or maybe it wasn’t Alex. I thought about Liam’s hip — that was the moment he’d started to seem off. Could he have contracted something from the bear Guardian?

Carefully, knowing I was handling a very precarious situation, I put pressure on his arm. “Let him down.”

Liam let go and Alex hit the floor, cowering.

“Go dry off,” I said, pointing back to the mudroom. He was still damp and dripping on the carpet.

Scrabbling, tail tucked between his legs and head down, Alex trotted back the way he’d come, nails clicking on the tile floor.

“This is what you weren’t sure of,” I asked softly, still not taking my hand from him. Oh my God, he was going to shift on the next full moon, but into what? And would he be able to shift back? I started to shiver.

“You think I’m a monster,” Liam said, stepping back from me.

I shook my head vehemently. “No!”

He took another step back. “I don’t blame you.”

“Liam, don’t do this. Don’t push me away. I was wrong before when I tried to put distance between us,” swallowed hard, “I’m not used to being with someone, and it scares me. But I don’t want to lose you.” I followed him, not letting him put the distance between us that he wanted to.

“I would have killed him if you hadn’t stopped me,” he roared. “I can feel this rage building in me, and I either want to kill something or . . .” His eyes raked over me. I shivered, not unpleasantly, with the thoughts of re-visiting the shower.

I looked up at him. He was strong and good, and he had every reason to keep hating me. Yet he’d let it all go, every last grudge he’d had against me. Milly hadn’t tempted him; he accepted I knew more than him, trusted me to lead. He’d cleaned Troll shit off my werewolf. There were not a lot of guys who could come even close to comparing to him. There was no way I was going to let go of him now.

“Liam, no matter what, this changes nothing between us. You won’t be different, you will just be more. Stronger, faster, harder to kill. But you’ll still be you. The rage is because you have a wolf trapped in you now that wants to get out. It’s still you.”

Reaching for him, I pulled back when he glared at me. “I don’t want your pity.”

I threw my hands into the air. “It isn’t pity, you idiot! I love you.”

The words hung between us, hovering with their weight. I swallowed hard, but held my ground.

We stood there, staring at each other until the soft clicking of Alex’s nails drew my attention. The werewolf leaned against the doorjamb between the kitchen and the living room, eyes lowered, tail drooped. “Dry now.” He swirled a front paw in a circle on the floor. “Rylee, we go now?”

I looked back at Liam, the glare on his face directed at Alex. He still hadn’t responded to my somewhat un-romantic declaration of love, though I had no doubt he’d heard me.

“Yeah, we’re going now. Go get my bag, Alex.” The werewolf ducked his head and left us standing there, in an uneasy standoff.

“What are you going to tell Agent Valley?” Sure, I was welcome on the team, but the AA Division knew what I was, had always been. Liam becoming supernatural, well, that was likely a big no-no. But that was just a guess. By the look on his face, he’d come to the same conclusion.

“Nothing.”

Alex came back in and tossed my bag at my feet. I yanked out my extra set of clothes and dressed in a hurry. “I’m taking this kid back to his mom. You coming?”

His jaw flexed and his gaze flowed over Alex, a testosterone tension filling the air. “I’ll take my truck.”

With that, we were on the move again, heading back to ‘Bottoms Up,’ me driving the SUV with the windows down to air out the smell of shit, and O’Shea following behind in his truck. But what would we do afterward? Would O’Shea come with me back to the farmhouse? Would he let me help him? Would he tell me he loved me back?

My gut twisted at the thought of losing him after we’d been through so much together. Because I knew better than anyone else that if O’Shea wasn’t strong enough, this would be his last two weeks thinking like the man I knew before becoming just like Alex. If all I had with him were two weeks, then I wanted every precious moment I could get.

‘B
ottoms Up’ was dark. Then again, it was like four in the morning, and even a strip bar shuts down at some point. I pulled over half a block away, eyeing up the building. I’d phoned Jewel and left her a message before we’d left O’Shea’s house, telling her we were on our way.

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I waited a few moments before getting out of the SUV, the snow and wind curling around me, tangling my hair.

Alex slid out of the vehicle, sniffing the ground. “Wolf pack,” he whispered, putting one claw to his lips.

Great, just what I needed. I waved once at O’Shea and he got out of his truck, trudging through the snow in nothing but jeans, boots and a t-shirt.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“No.”

I squinted at him, blinking in surprise. As the snow hit his skin, little bursts of steam went upward. Shit, he was further along in the changes than I would have thought.

“You stay here, make sure no one else comes in after me,” I said.

Frowning, O’Shea shook his head. “No. You aren’t going in there alone.”

“Listen.” I put a hand on his chest, the heat radiating off him pulsing right through my gloves. “You are not in the best state of mind. I’m going in, and coming right back out.”

“With the kid?”

“Yes, with the kid.”

“You can’t carry him and manage doors at the same time.”

He glared at me, dark orbs floating with amber bits; my heart lurched. He was right, damn it.

“Fine. You carry the kid; I’ll get the doors. Alex, you stick close.”

The werewolf sat up on his haunches and gave me a sharp salute. “Yuppy doody!”

O’Shea picked up Ricky’s body, slinging it over his shoulder with ease.

I led the way, one sword drawn just in case. The snow crunched under our feet, and was about the only sound I could hear. “Boys, you getting anything?”

Alex shook his head, and O’Shea glared at me. “I’m not a fucking scent hound.”

I shrugged, for once not giving the sharp retort I normally would. He was going to be touchy for a while, getting used to using all his new found senses. Taking a slow, even breath, I put my hand on the front door, giving it a quick twist, expecting it to be locked. The door eased open, and a burly old man blinked up at us. “Heard you might be coming, leave the body here. I’ll get it to Jewel.”

“Fine,” I said, pointing at the ground. “Put him down.”

O’Shea laid Ricky on the doorstep and then grabbed my arm. “We need to leave. Right now.”