Head Above Water (Gemini: A Black Dog #2) (10 page)

* * *

G
raeson opened
the door of my trailer and led me inside like a gentleman, but I think he was more concerned about my claws shredding the metal than politeness. Adrenaline kept me furry to the elbows, and I couldn’t shake off my nerves enough to trigger a change.

He eased me into the booth, and his gaze swung wide. “The wards will help drain the magic so you can shift back, right?”

“It will.” I hissed out a sharp breath. “I’ll give it another minute to fade, but if it doesn’t…”

I would have to reset, and we both knew my reset was broken. No, that wasn’t right. I could shift into Lori. Maybe it wasn’t busted so much as it broke me a little every time I used it.

The soothing energies of the dampening wards embedded in the walls of the trailer began nibbling on the residual magic floating in my system, and I relaxed as best I could. I pressed a hand to my side, and it came away smeared with blood from where Becca had sucker-punched me. With her claws.

“We need to get you patched up.” He went to the sink, grabbed a cloth and dampened it. “Do you want me to get Aunt Dot or Isaac?”

“No.” Gingerly, I pulled the fabric away from the clotting wound. “It hurts too much for me to think of a good excuse as to why dinner with my ‘boyfriend’ ended with his family taking chunks out of my hide.”

“Okay. Then we handle it ourselves.” He strode toward the bathroom, which he must have scouted in wolf form, and called back to me, “Take off your shirt.”

Dumbstruck, I sat there staining my furniture and gawping up at him. “What?”

“Your shirt. It’s ruined. Take it off.” He spread his supplies on the table in front of me. “I’ll clean you up and get you a new one.”

The ridiculous urge to cross my arms over my chest made my voice snap. “Casual nudity is part of your culture, not mine.”

He eyed my breasts appreciatively. “Are you wearing a bra?”

“I don’t see why that’s any of your— Hey.” I popped his hand when he shoved the neck of my shirt aside in search of straps. “Stop that.”

“Ellis, either take off the shirt and let me clean you, or I’m going to wake up Aunt Dot.” He drummed his fingers on the bench behind me. “It’s just a shirt. There’s still a bra on under there. You’ve still got pants on. You won’t be naked. You’ll be halfway to a bikini.”

“I’ve never worn a bikini,” I grumbled, hooking my thumbs in the hem of the shirt and peeling it over my head.

“No.” Apology tightened his expression. “I don’t suppose you have.”

I gritted my teeth to stop the rush of blood in my temples from transforming to the crash of waves. A ribbon of girlish laughter echoed through my thoughts before I clamped down on the memories. I didn’t want to lose it in front of Graeson. I preferred confronting the specter of my sister alone.

“Here.” I offered him the ruined T-shirt. “You can toss it in the trash can under the sink.”

He did, then brought the damp cloth and knelt in front of me. I sat sideways on the seat, with one arm braced on the table and the other on its back. My feet were planted on the linoleum, knees tight together until he nudged them apart with a firm hand. Cupping my shoulder, he twisted me just enough to invigorate the burn.

“The cuts aren’t deep.” He gave each mark his full attention. “There’s more blood than wound, honestly.” He applied the warm cloth, and for a second the wet heat felt divine. “How fast do Gemini heal?”

I winced as he shifted the nubby fabric. “Slightly faster than humans.”

“Does whatever ability you’ve absorbed at the time augment that at all?”

“It’s possible.” I considered the question. “We don’t have absolute control over what qualities we skim from the blood of our donors. Usually it’s their most striking feature or their most dangerous asset, since it’s a defense mechanism for us. Even though we tend to absorb only one or two facets of a donor’s gift, extras crop up from time to time.”

“Extras?”

“Once, when I was a kid, before…” I pressed my lips together. “Isaac and his brother, Theo, hitched a ride with one of Aunt Dot’s renters into town. I caught them at the edge of the park and begged to go. They hated when I tagged along, so I should have been suspicious when they welcomed me into the car.”

Graeson moved his hand a fraction, and I sucked in air between my teeth.

“Once we got to town, they dared me to borrow magic from the guy. I was five, and I didn’t know what he was when I took his blood.” But those two had known exactly what was about to happen. “It made me faster, my senses keener, and…” I put it out there. “I sprouted this muscular bald tail—like a possum’s—as long as my arm. It popped out inside my jeans and hurt so badly being cramped up in there I stripped right on the street. I was so freaked out by it that I couldn’t shift back. Then they started to panic, because they knew they were going to get in big trouble, so they ditched me. I had to walk home in my panties, because the elastic allowed me to tuck the waistband under the base of the tail.”

It had been the first of many such walks of shame.

The corners of Graeson’s eyes creased, and I knew he wanted to laugh. I guess in hindsight it was kind of… No. It still wasn’t funny to me.

“I’m no doctor, but here’s my two cents.” He grabbed a tube of antibiotic ointment, squirted a generous amount on his fingertips and smoothed it gently over the scratches. “It’s safe to say you absorbed some of my healing ability. You’re healing almost as fast as I do. You should be as good as new by morning at this rate.”

I risked a glance, expecting gaping flesh despite his diagnosis, but he was right. A pissed-off house cat could do the amount of damage I saw. “That’s amazing.” I flexed my still furry hands. “This—not so much.”

“Do you need to reset?” He kept it casual as he finished up and wiped his hands clean. “Is that something you want to do alone? Or would you like me to stay?”

At first I didn’t know how to answer. He knew better than most why using my reset gutted me. Shifting to my other form jarred me back into Lori’s skin, ripping open a different kind of wound as I went.

I surprised myself by saying, “I wouldn’t say no to company.” I fisted my hands in my lap. “I just… Could you give me a few minutes? Alone?”

“I’ll wait on the steps.” He cocked his head, listening. “Dell’s worried about you. She’s on her way over. I’ll head her off and explain things unless…” His thumb smoothed a crease in my jeans. “Do you want me to go? She could hang out with you.”

“No.”
I winced at the volume of my voice. “Dell is great, but I don’t want to see her tonight.” I would have set a hand on his shoulder if both mine weren’t still half-changed.
I need you
, was what I meant to say. What came out was, “Please, don’t go.”

“Okay. I’ll give her an update and send her home.” He gave my upper thighs a reassuring squeeze. “Call if you need me.”

I ducked my head in a halfhearted nod and listened as he exited the trailer and shut the door behind him. The knob barely had time to click before I heard muffled voices pitched low in an earnest discussion.

Gripping the medical supplies in an awkward hold, I shuffled toward the bathroom and put things back in their place. There was no room for clutter, and I didn’t want a mess to clean up later. Figuring this was as good a place as any, I nudged the door closed to give me room, lowered the lid on the toilet and sat.

With a moment to myself, I studied the fur covering my arms. The coloration mystified me. Gemini mimic that which already exists—we don’t alter it beyond the changes required to adapt a borrowed talent to our bodies. There was no reason why I didn’t share Graeson’s sterling silver pelt down to the hair.

Isaac might know, and if he didn’t, Aunt Dot would.

“Enough procrastinating,” I chided myself, the faint echo a lonely contrast to the conversation happening outside.

Cupping my elbows with my palms, I hugged myself and cracked open the lid on my memories. The deeper they cut, the better. The more agonizing the recollection, the less physical pain the change wrought from me. But instead of the beach of my nightmares, I found myself remembering those summer trips to the Great Smoky Mountains, comparing those forests and mountains to these.

A ripple of magic slipped over my skin, and I submersed myself deeper in the past.

One of Lori’s favorite places had been a tiered waterfall hidden from the trails. The hike had left our short legs burning, and we whined every step of the way. Dad was ready to turn back, but Mom spun the endless trek into a game to see which of us could collect the most oak leaves. Each had to be fallen—no picking them off the limbs—and there could be no tears or holes or spotting. Soon we carried armfuls of leaves we flung at each other as we ran. By the time we stumbled upon the falls, we were all smiles.

I’ll never forget how it resembled the most perfect layered cake, the frothy falls white like icing as the water flowed down the ever-widening expanse of rocks before crashing into an otherwise-calm basin.

I’ll also never forget how Lori took one step, slipped on a moss-covered stone and fell on her butt into the ice-cold water. Or how she’d climbed out, shook off and shoved me in face-first to get even with me for mocking her.

The undercurrent of laughter shook my shoulders, and I smiled as warm magic twisted around me. The stirrings of the change contracted my stomach, tensed my muscles, and that flicker of amusement vanished with the first hard cramp. I gasped through clenched teeth, locked my elbows and held tight. Being compressed into the body of an eight-year-old made me painfully aware of every inch taller and wider I’d grown since Lori passed. My essence, tamped down into that tiny container, stretched me taut until my new skin threatened to burst.

The roller coaster of agony lasted forever, and when I could breathe again, I sensed Graeson standing outside the bathroom door.

I stretched out my arms. They were chubby with baby fat that Lori never shed. The platinum fur was gone. The razor edges of my claws had dulled and shrunk into plump fingers with chipped purple nail polish adorning the tips. The jeans and boots I’d worn earlier had vanished, replaced by a nightgown sprinkled with fat moons and grinning stars that brushed my bare ankles.

A sink basin sat next to my elbow, the compact shower stall beside that. If I had guts enough, I could stand in front of that counter, stare into that mirror and see Lori’s face reflected as mine. But her smiles and mannerisms were her own. There was no copying those. All I accomplished by studying her was refreshing the mental pictures I kept that would never fade so long as I had a means of punishing myself by wearing her skin.

“I told you to wait outside.” Soft and breathless, chest wound too tight, I sounded like a kid panting through a hundred jumping jacks challenge. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Had he not been there, I realized, I would have looked into that mirror. I would have gripped the metaphorical knife lodged in my heart with both hands and twisted until I couldn’t stand and collapsed on the floor.

“You were screaming.” His muffled voice held an edge.

Had I cried out? I couldn’t remember. So much of the change was mental, it was hard keeping up with the physical.

“I shook off the wolf.” I studied my nubby toes and wiggled them. “I need to shift back. Just give me a minute.”

The shadow under the door didn’t budge, but he didn’t try the handle either. With Graeson, who had problems with hearing
no
and tended to do what he wanted, it was a small victory.

The change took longer than a minute, but Camille unfurled from Lori’s shell in record time, and again I wondered if that wasn’t due to the knowledge that Graeson was there, waiting, a whisper away if I needed him.

Back in my own body, I was still covered with blood. I showered before exiting the bathroom wearing pajama pants and a matching tank top. I found a large silver wolf curled up in my bed and realized he must have gone outside to shift while I was washing the blood of his pack mate down the drain. His change relieved pressure I hadn’t realized was coiling ever tighter in my gut as I pondered our sleeping arrangements. When I hesitated in the doorway, the wolf whined low in his throat, rested his head on his paws and gave me liquescent puppy eyes that should have looked absurd on a warg his size.

“You expect me to sleep with you?” He took up half the bed, and I wasn’t even in it yet. I’d never had a pet, never slept with an animal, and he was getting fur all over everything. Was it too late to ask for the man back? “You aren’t serious.”

His tail thumped once.

I huffed as I pulled back the covers, flipping the light off as I went. I crawled into bed and grumbled as I settled in on the sliver of mattress he’d left for me. I lay there—stiff and not really comfortable at all as I wondered if wargs got ticks or fleas and if that’s why my skin suddenly itched—and had about decided to sleep on the floor when he rested his large head over my stomach, pinning me to the bed under its weight. He released a gusty sigh, licked his lips and didn’t move again.

Positive he was sleeping, I risked rubbing one of his ears through my fingers then stroked down his spine. His fur was a contrast of downy soft and coarse hairs, and petting him soothed me. I drifted to sleep with a hand fisted in his ruff, lulled by his warmth and the sound of his breathing.

T
he bed was
empty when I woke except for the hairs stuck to my sheets and clinging to my top. Unsure if I still had company, I fumbled my way into the kitchen and found Graeson seconds from cracking eggs I hadn’t bought into a skillet I didn’t own.

I rose on my tiptoes, arms reaching high overhead, fingertips almost brushing the ceiling. “Am I still dreaming?”

He turned in time to catch my yawn. “Do you often dream about men cooking you breakfast?”

The heat of his gaze traveled over my navel, exposed by my morning stretch session, and my skin tingled.

“No.” I inhaled on a blissful sigh. “This would be a first.”

“Good. I don’t like competition.” He used a knife—that one I did recognize—and slashed open a package of bacon. “So…” Voice calm, reasonable, he drew out the pause. “Do you dream of me outside of cooking you breakfast?”

“First of all, you’re the only person not related to me who’s ever cooked for me.” I went to the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice, but he stuck a mug smelling of chai in my hand, and my insides melted as the heat ebbed into my palm. “And secondly, I’m not about to admit to what happens when my eyes close.”

“So that’s a yes.” He sounded pleased.

“This must be a dream.” I sat on the bench and scooted close to the wall so I could rest my head against it. “It’s too surreal.”

A masculine chuckle overlaid the sizzle of bacon. “I hope you don’t mind. I invited Dell over.”

“Not at all.” Any minute now I would wake up and find myself alone in a cold bed instead of breathing in the warm scents of Graeson’s efforts. I wanted to enjoy this fantasy right up until my alarm blared. “As long as you keep doing what you’re doing.”

A clink of sound jolted me upright from my slouch as Graeson thunked down a plate in front of me. A mountain of home-style potatoes sizzled, all crispy and browned. My mouth watered, and my stomach gurgled loud enough to embarrass. I’d burned a lot of calories shifting last night, and I’d been too stunned and heartsick to replace any of them. If Graeson hadn’t stuffed me prior to my first challenge, I might not have woken until late afternoon or even tonight.

One thing was for sure. Until Graeson, I hadn’t realized what poor care I was taking of myself. Then again, until Charybdis brought us together, I hadn’t had much need for shifting or practicing self-defense that didn’t involve reflecting catty comments from temporary coworkers.

“If I’d known the way to your heart was through your stomach—” he picked a promising spud off the top and pressed it against my lips, “—I would have cooked for you sooner.”

I snagged the morsel with my teeth, and he growled appreciatively while I chewed. “Is all this for me?”

“Well,” he said on a laugh, “Dell is expecting food at breakfast. Maybe save her a bite?”

I ate a second potato and considered my answer. “How have you managed to stay single this long?”

“Easy. I didn’t settle.” The pan hissed and crackled as he flipped the crisping strips of bliss some called bacon. “I wanted to set a good example for Marie.”

“So you ascribe to the soul-mate theory.” Even to my own ears, I sounded flat.

“I don’t believe souls are split down the middle before they’re stuffed into our bodies, or that it’s our life’s goal to hunt down the missing half of ourselves, if that’s what you mean.” He tapped his tongs against the fryer. “I do believe that sometimes—whether it’s fate or accidental—we cross paths with someone who shatters us on a fundamental level and remakes us into a better version of ourselves.”

I ate another potato. “That sounds painful.”

“Love is a series of small hurts,” he agreed. “Even when everything goes right, your heart gets bruised.” Carrying a plate of bacon draining on a paper towel, he set it out of my reach. “Some people are worth it, some people are not, and I doubt any of that has anything to do with fate or divine intervention.”

“Dell said something similar to me once.” I darted out my hand and snagged a strip of perfectly cooked bacon before he could catch my wrist. “She doesn’t believe in fated mates either.”

“Dell is a progressive woman.” He rubbed his jaw. “It’s just as likely fated mates are a product of the very prejudices you and I are facing now. Most warg females have fertility issues when it comes to interbreeding. The result is few pureblood children being born, and those pure bloodlines being prized.”

“Ah.” I crunched thoughtfully. “You think fated mates are cautionary tales.” I could see that. “So if a male is in a relationship with a female who isn’t getting pregnant, he can ditch her in favor of another one and blame it on fate. Or vice versa, I suppose.”

“I’ve seen happy couples who’ve been together for years busted up by a male scenting a female in true heat and being unable to control himself. Same for females going through their cycle multiple times and failing to get pregnant. Males who already have a child—or multiple children—are a temptation some can’t resist. Those are rare scenarios.” He pointed his finger at me and pulled the trigger. “But fated mates are supposed to be rare, right?”

I leaned forward, fully engaged. “What about half-bloods?”

“It’s much easier for wargs to breed with humans. Those children have a fifty-fifty shot at being able to shift at puberty. You get a few cases of latent wolves several generations removed, but those are almost myth they’re so rare. Usually a child with less than half warg blood has no chance of shifting.” He shook his head. “It’s a hard choice, but with our species shrinking with each generation, it’s one being made more and more often. Half a chance is still half a chance more than what they had.”

“What about you?” I couldn’t resist asking. “Do you want kids?”

“I’m a dominant, which usually means a stronger, purer bloodline.” He kept it light, like it meant nothing. “I’ve got a good chance at having full-blooded kids.”

No wonder Becca was willing to have a go at me. A union with Graeson offered more than status, he represented the possibility of something far more precious. Babies. The future of the pack. Of their species.

Another thread of doubt wriggled through my mind, the fear I was standing between him and a thing he might want, an opportunity he might feel obligated to explore. Biological urges were strong, but his conscious needs and wants factored into his choice, right?

Plenty of people—fae and human—had children with partners they didn’t like or downright despised. Who benefited from those unions? The children growing up in divided households? Or worse, in homes where resentment polluted their every breath from infancy? The mothers with their dull eyes or fathers with the collar of duty strangling the life from them?

Instead of accepting his brush-off, I had to know. I told myself his answer would decide for me whether fighting for his hand like some twisted fairy tale was the right thing to do or if it was my own stubborn refusal to allow tradition to swallow him whole, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that was the truth. It was hard sitting in my kitchen eating the man’s bacon while denying the heat coiled in my belly wasn’t from the rendered pork but his proximity.

I chewed thoughtfully. “That’s not an answer.”

Fabric whispered as he slid into the booth opposite me, took my hands in his and linked our fingers. “What if I said I want blond-haired girls or boys with storm-cloud eyes that roll with thunder like their mother’s?”

Children who, if he got his wish, would bear an uncanny resemblance to me, and to the sister I had lost. Gemini birthed twins. Always. How painful would it be to look into the faces of my daughters and see Lori’s shadow? Would I be able to endure it? Could I view them as individuals, or would I only see her ghost and flee from the pain the way my mother and father had? Leaving Graeson, once again, to raise children on his own?

Honesty was the most I could offer. “I would say I don’t know if I can give that to you.”

His thumbs rolled over my knuckles. “I understand.”

And the worst part was, I knew he did. He had an uncanny way of reading me as though the pack bond was always strung between us. I wished I understood him half as well.

A couple of raps on the door announced Dell’s arrival. Graeson didn’t react, so I figured she had given a mental knock before the physical one.

“Come in,” I called, unable to stand because my fingers were meshed with an unmovable object’s.

“You guys look…tense.” She stalled out in the kitchen. “Should I come back later?”

“No.” Graeson stood and hauled me from the booth with him. “I was just leaving.”

“What about breakfast?” There was so much food, and he hadn’t eaten any of it. “You aren’t staying?”

“I can’t.” Using our linked hands, he tugged me closer and folded his arms behind him. Mine followed, linking my arms around his waist. “When are you leaving?”

“This afternoon. Isaac is driving us to the airport.” I wanted him back inside the safety of the wards before sundown. “Will I see you before I go?”

Graeson ducked his head, pressing his nose against the point where my neck met shoulder. A long, slow inhale lifted the hairs down my arms. He exhaled through his mouth, and his breath rippled down the front of my shirt, tightening my stomach.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, and I heard the lie.

I turned my face so our cheeks brushed, the stubble of his chin scoring me when he tilted his jaw. “Will I have to worry about another challenge before I leave?”

“No.” That one word rang with truth. “The pack will be otherwise occupied.”

I drew back to look into his face. “I don’t suppose you’ll enlighten me?”

“I don’t mean to break up this beautiful moment,” Dell said, scooting past me and closer to the bacon, “but it’s not as good once the grease congeals. You gotta eat this stuff hot.”

“She’s right. You should eat and pack.” His fingers slipped from mine, and after patting my arms to keep them in place, he cupped my face in his hands. “Learn all you can, but be careful.”

“We’ll talk when I get back.” My fingers wormed into his belt loops. “This woman, she might have some of the answers we need to pinpoint Charybdis’s next move. If I can figure out how—” My lips burned in silent warning, the blood oath at work. “All I’m saying is this is the best lead we’ve got. I’m keeping my fingers crossed she’s the key to figuring out where Charybdis might have gone to lick his wounds.”

Fresh worry creased his forehead. “I should be the one going with you.”

“You’ve got your hands busy here.” Cleaning up the mess I had helped create. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle this.”

“I know you can. I have faith in you.” A tight grin thinned his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I just wish you didn’t have to do it alone.”

Before I realized his intent, he ducked his head and captured my lips with his. The soft pressure vanished before his taste registered, before I could decide if I should yank him closer or bring my knee up between his legs. Somehow he stood across the trailer by the time my brain gained traction.

Graeson had kissed me.
Kissed me
. And it started the room spinning.

“Take care of her, Dell.” They shared a grim look that set my arms prickling. “Check in before you leave Kermit.”

With those enigmatic words, he exited the trailer. The resignation in his posture sent alarm bells clanging in my head. Dell caught me by the wrist before I turned the front doorknob. I hadn’t even realized I was following him on unsteady legs.

That kiss had clearly fried my brain. He was a grown warg. He could take care of himself for twenty-four hours, less than if we got lucky with our timing.

“Let him go.” She tugged me to the booth and pushed me back in my spot. “We need to eat and nail down our agenda. Cord will be fine.”

Despite her reassuring toast, made with my forgotten glass of orange juice, deep in my gut I didn’t believe her.

* * *

“
I
don’t get it
.” Dell leaned forward in the passenger seat of the rental car we’d picked up after our flight dumped us near Kermit, Texas. Almost pressing her nose to the windshield, she squinted into the full darkness beyond the glass. “Are you sure your GPS isn’t busted?”

“Hmm?” I stopped drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.

“That’s a cow pasture, not a mental institution.”

I followed her line of sight to where a grandiose five-story structure rose from a manicured lawn, more country estate than sterile institution. Warmth glowed behind its elegant arched windows, and spotlights illuminated white stone statues and spiral topiaries scattered artfully across the grounds. Despite the late hour, a patient could stroll the sprawling garden even if they weren’t one of the nocturnal fae species.

“Don’t worry.” I had that covered. “We’re in the right place.”

“Are you okay?” She squeezed my forearm. “You looked like you were a million miles away.”

Villanow was closer to twelve hundred miles away from Kermit, but I wasn’t one for splitting hairs.

“I was just thinking.” About how Graeson never came back. He kissed me and vanished, and I got the queasiest sensation low in my gut when I thought about the finality of that moment. “Our contact should be here any minute now.”