Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Monkey Wrench ❯ The Chemicas Between Us ( Chapter 10 )

Monday, January 10, 2005

11:50 p.m. EST

Wilmington, DE

Theryn's Apartment

 

I sat on the couch breathing shallowly, blankly staring at the opposite wall. I'd just gotten off the phone with Lisa; she'd left about seventeen messages on my machine wanting to know if we had made it out of there okay. Well, that was a loaded question. I had called her on my cell and told a cursory version of events, not having the strength to rehash every lurid detail, but she knew we had made it and that was enough to make her happy.

 

She'd also told me about her side of story, and I didn't have the heart to feel betrayed by her ratting me out to Rowan, being that she'd most likely saved my life and all. I asked her how I'd managed to evade the werewolf's nose (still not quite believing that I had) and how'd they found the warehouse when it was ten minutes off the main road. Lisa explained the first question, stating that right as I was leaving the club, Rowan had been coming in from the outside deck, and we had narrowly missed each other like ships passing in the night.

 

On the second one, she swore that once she told Rowan about my wearing perfume and somebody else's clothes, he'd turned to face my broken car's window and started sniffing like he was trying to get high off of chemical fumes. He started to give her directions and fifteen minutes later, they had found me in the abandoned lot. She had been planning to get out and help me but Rowan made it quite clear she was to turn around and go home, so that's what she did.

 

Lisa always did have a hell of lot more common sense than me.

 

I listened to the spray of water coming from the bathroom. Rowan was in there taking a shower; I figured he'd be a while, what with every inch of skin covered in encrusted blood. I really wanted a shower of my own and to get out of these punk clothes, so I did the next best thing and headed into my bedroom to change into my pajamas.

 

Unfortunately, the only ones that were clean was the black satin and silk number Joe had given me in college. Believe me, I hadn't kept it because I was hopelessly pining for my sleaze ball ex-boyfriend, I just left it in the bottom of my drawer in case I ever ran out of fuzzy pants and old college sweats. I guess in the recent Snib hullabaloo, my laundry had fallen by the wayside.

 

I didn't own lingerie, and found the stuff ghastly uncomfortable, but Joe had managed to find a decently covering ensemble that was still sort of sexy, in a girl next door kind of way The midnight color was stark against my pale white skin, but Joe had always told me it was a nice contrast.

 

I'd always thought it made me look like a corpse at a graveyard pajama party, but who was I argue with a guys opinion on these matters? The cut was fairly modest, nothing too revealing, just a pair of shorts and a slightly clingy tank top. It seemed positively scandalous next to my staple sweat suits though.

 

Taking a calculated risk, considering my newfound desire to hop into the shower with my werewolf bodyguard, I threw my cousin's borrowed outfit in the hamper and put on the only clean nightclothes available. My slippers were in the bathroom with Rowan so looks like it was bare feet for now. I just had to figure out one last thing before I got a shower of my own and washed off this overpowering perfume, how was I going to get these handcuffs off?

 

I'd been banking on Rowan taking care of it for me, since he so nonchalantly pried them apart earlier, but he'd made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as we entered the apartment. Okay, I can see being pissed off at me right now, but he couldn't have waited two seconds and snapped these jailhouse bracelets off my wrists first.

 

Sighing loudly, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a few swigs. I felt woozy and my senses still hadn't come down from their hyperactive antics at the warehouse. It was easy to believe my super girl transformation was a side effect of adrenaline from the attempted vampire kidnapping/blood letting, but why hadn't it gone away? Maybe I just needed to lie down.

 

Just as I was heading back down the hall to my bedroom, the bathroom door swung open and I was greeted with a most delicious sight. Rowan stood in front of me, dripping wet, wearing nothing but a barely there towel. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared. He looked too damn good to be this naked in my apartment. He was staring at me too; I must of looked ridiculous, with my eyes bugged out, and mouth gaping open. I was waiting for my heart to come shooting through my chest and tongue to roll out onto the floor just like in the old cartoons.

 

Hey Theryn, your brain just called, seems your dignity has officially checked out for the night!

 

Quickly trying to hide my embarrassment, I shuffled passed him, mumbling something about going to lie down. I never made it passed the threshold on foot; Rowan grabbed me by my bare arms and physically lifted me onto my bed, in a manner much like a father about to scold his five year old daughter for running out in front of traffic.

 

I held back from retaliating immediately, he hadn't shown an ounce of anger toward me since the fight with the vampires and I had expected this reaction at some point, just not while he was wearing nothing but a bath towel, but hey, I wasn't going to complain.

 

He was breathing heavily, like he was trying to hold himself back from striking me, man I hoped those breathing techniques worked.

 

Lifting up a shaking hand, Rowan hurriedly pushed it through his cropped blonde hair, “You realize you could have been killed tonight?” Rowan asked, none too kindly.

 

I nodded silently, I had a feeling that if I suddenly started to defend my actions, no amount of labored breathing was going to save me from his wrath.

 

“You deliberately schemed to evade me at the club, then not ten minutes later, got yourself kidnapped by a gang of vampires. Do you still think Nikolai isn't interested in you?” Rowan was pacing now, hands balled into tight fists.

 

I shook my head no; it seemed nothing short of suicidal to disagree with him right now. I may be stupid when it came defending my actions, but not that stupid.

 

Rowan stopped his pacing right in front of me, his eyes narrowed and he stared at me for a full minute. I fidgeted the entire time, often looking past him, nervous and uncomfortable with his unconcealed scrutiny.

 

I flinched when he picked up my right wrist and snapped off the cuff bracelet and bit my lip in shame as he inspected the left one to do the same. But he didn't let go of my left arm for some reason, he was staring down at it like he was studying a map. I tried to pry it away but it was like trying to pull your arm out of a fully pumped blood pressure cuff, I wasn't going anywhere.

 

“The vampire cut you, tasted your blood?” Rowan asked, seriously.

 

I looked away, “Uh yeah, my wrist got caught in the handcuff chain, it bleed a little. The big Viking dude tasted it and told the others, `Darastus was right.' But I was blindfolded at the time so I don't know what their reaction was or even what he meant by it.” I answered.

 

Rowan dropped my arm and kicked at my bed frame. Hey, no need to take out your frustrations on my bed, just because you've got to sleep on an upholstered footstool. I looked at him crossly, and then quickly scooted across my bed to the wall, Rowan looked murderous.

 

“Fucking Darastus is in on this! What the hell is Nikolai planning with that vampire piece of shit?” He exclaimed.

 

I shrugged my shoulders dumbly. I really wanted to get out of this enclosed space, sooner rather than later. Rowan picked up on my obvious discomfort and sighed loudly.

 

“Go wash off that horrid perfume before I die of toxic scent inhalation. I'm going to call Gage, let him know what's up.”

 

“Sure,” I responded, numbly.

 

Whisking across my queen sized bed, I flung myself onto the floor and tried to make a quick exit, but Rowan caught me by the arm again. This little display of machismo was getting real old, real fast and my shame fueled acquiescence to his high handedness tonight was just about over.

 

“We're not through here; don't think you're getting off that easy.” Rowan promised.

 

I narrowed my eyes at him, wishing for once that I could grow lethal claws and swipe up at his reproachful face. Deciding against looking like a fool and hopelessly tugging at my arm, I stood still and forced myself to stay submissive, maybe that would throw him off faster than anything.

 

Luckily, my Stepford Wife act was convincing because he let go of my appendage and took a step back, allowing me to exit my own bedroom. I smiled smugly to myself at his puzzled expression, don't get too comfortable wolf boy. I may owe you my life, but I don't appreciate being treated like recaptured property.

 

As I headed into the still steamy bathroom and turned on the water, I had a moment to reflect on my actions. I wondered why I had turned into such a raging bitch lately. Yeah, I was always independent, sometimes detrimentally so, but Rowan had just murdered four vampires for me, simply because his alpha had requested it.

 

Taking off my clothes and grabbing the enormous shower brush I had gotten for Christmas, I jumped inside and ducked my head under the gloriously hot water. I decided I was again overreacting. I had forgotten I was dealing with werewolves and they were an entirely different species than humans.

 

Plus, I could no longer pretend Nikolai had no interest in me, because it was now apparent that was not the case. I needed to get with the program and fast.

 

I swore to myself that I would stop being so difficult with Rowan and be much more agreeable, because it seemed the best way to preserve my life. I'd only sweat the really big stuff.

 

And maybe this way, he'd hang around my apartment in nothing but a towel more often. Chuckling softly at the image, I scrubbed furiously at my perfume soaked skin. Hey, I'm nothing if not opportunistic.

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Tuesday, January 11, 2005

12:10 a.m. EST

Wilmington, DE

Theryn's Apartment

 

Rowan flipped the cover of Theryn's cell phone down with unnecessary force, half relieved and half agitated that it didn't break into tiny pieces. He'd just given a full report to Gage and his alpha was not happy. He still cringed at the part where he had to explain how Theryn managed to escape his guard at the club.

 

The normally amiable Gage had not been amused by Rowan's “investigative” conversation with Joe the Warlock Mage or his very public transformation and told him so in a rather impressive display of growling and various four letter words. Rowan told his alpha not too worry, he was furious enough at himself for the both of them.

 

Gage ordered Rowan to call him back by 10:00 a.m. with a plan. It was left unsaid that he was expected to keep Theryn under lock and key, no more public excursions or friendly birthday parties in the near future. Lastly, his alpha had given him some unsettling news; Doc's inhibitor patch was a bust. The latest tests came back negative, so it was back to the drawing board.

 

Rowan again found that he was of two minds on this issue. It had taken every ounce of strength to ignore his hormones and not attack Theryn in her bedroom. For some reason, the girl's blood smelled even more strongly of fey, the open wound on her wrist nearly drove him to him knees. He'd be damned if she'd ever find that out though, that gods be damned druid would only laugh at him.

 

He had not been prepared for her sleeping attire tonight, and been clearly surprised twice in one night by how sexy she could look. Tugging at his own white tee, he smirked to himself. He hadn't missed her surprise at finding him so scantily clad as well. He'd relish that response from the normally oblivious girl for days to come.

 

Leaning back on the miniscule sofa's arm rest, he thought about a viable plan of action for his wayward charge. The obvious answer was to go to the Hunt, staying at the compound with numerous other werewolves around was assuredly the most secure option. However, there was one drawback; other males would be there too.

 

Rowan cursed out loud, damning himself for imprinting Theryn (even if it had been the only way he'd have found her with the vampires) and twice damning his own fey blood for reacting to her this way. Yes, the Hunt would provide more protection but he'd rather be turned into a Were-sparrow than put up with lesser wolves sniffing around Theryn, even if their intentions were noble.

 

He could take her to his own house; the estate his maternal grandmother had left him was large enough for fifty people. And the gods knew it was far enough away in Ireland, but it was in fey territory and he was fairly certain Theryn wouldn't appreciate being sequestered from her family, and she needed to be introduced to Snib life slowly, the lupinaras and lupus were enough at the present.

 

The best he could come up with was staying here for now. It would be nothing short of house arrest but it was obvious Nikolai didn't want to trap Theryn at her home, because the legendary wolf must have known Rowan was here guarding her. That's why he waited for her to leave the club by herself, sneaky bastard.

 

In that case, he'd just have to live here for the time being, become attached at the hip so to speak. He grinned at the thought of becoming attached at something else, but quickly erased that image away for now. With Gage's news of the defunct inhibitor patch, he was going to have to make a go of his instincts, especially since he was sure he wasn't going to last the night.

 

Maybe he and Theryn could get along outside the bedroom? He thought it might be possible, if he was willing to forgo his natural inclinations and act more like a human than a lupinara. Shit, who was he kidding? He and Theryn would be at each other like the last two lupinaras in an alpha fight, no way around it, he was in for the very last thing he wanted, an instinctually arranged mating. Damn, it felt like being betrayed by your best friend, and he had no one to blame but himself.

 

He wasn't surprised when Theryn came thumping into the living room, wearing the same black satin set he liked so much earlier. He'd been listening to her rummaging around in the bathroom for the past five minutes and had been anticipating her arrival. Time to get down to business, and he really hoped it remained just that, business.

 

“Have a seat, I want to talk to you about what this means for the future,” he ordered.

 

Theryn was not pleased by his manner, but he was pleasantly rewarded with her compliance as she took a seat carefully in the busted up recliner. It had a screw lose or two and if you tried to push back on it to recline, the chair flipped over in a parody of an out of control rocking chair, Rowan had found this out the hard way.

 

“I just got off the phone with Gage and he wants me to come up with a plan, in light of recent events,” Rowan informed, still expecting an enraged outburst at his attitude.

 

Theryn seemed to mentally scold herself, and then nodded at him to continue.

 

Ignoring her odd behavior, Rowan decided to just get this over with, “I thought it would be best if we didn't move you, like take you to the Hunt or another safe house or something,” he explained.

 

She looked happy with that conclusion and Rowan was relieved he'd done something right.

 

Buoyed by her seemingly affable countenance, he added, “So you'll stay here in your apartment with me, as a guard like before. Of course, this time, you can't leave at all, receive any visitors, or so much as peek out a window without my permission, but once we figure out Nikolai's plans, I might be able to escort you out for groceries and stuff.”

 

Rowan was pleased, Theryn wasn't screaming at him or throwing the remotes at his head like he'd predicated. However, her head was ducked down, hair falling in her face while she was staring at the floor, shoulders heaving and hugging her arms in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable.

 

What was wrong? Was she laughing at him? This wasn't like her at all, where was the anger, the bitter resentment, that unwavering desire to kick him to the curb for his domineering ways?

 

He got up to move closer to her and watched unbelievably as Theryn bolted out of her chair like a launched cannonball. She charged past him, careened around the corner of her bedroom door and slammed the wooden obstacle in his face.

 

Rowan could clearly make out the sound of her locking the door. Then, make a running jump onto the bed, followed by muffled whimpering into a nearby pillow. Her reaction brought out the protective side of him, and he had no qualms about shouldering the flimsy door open and striding inside, where he knew he was most unwelcome.

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Theryn's Bedroom

 

I can't believe this is happening. I am crying. I haven't done this since Poppy died and it felt cheap. How could I possibly equate this obviously vital stretch of werewolf supervision with my grandfather passing away? Yet I was, or more likely, I was equating the passing of my formerly mundane and carefully boring life with this suddenly melodramatic and Snib-filled replacement.

 

I wanted my old life back! In the past 72 hours I'd had enough excitement to last me for the rest of my days, I didn't ask for this and here I was openly crying in front of some macho lupinara bodyguard. Oh, I felt more ashamed now then when Rowan was scolding me for my stupidity earlier. Damn it, I HATED crying.

 

My door was ripped opened and in came the one person I did NOT want to see me like this. How was I supposed to keep up my tough girl persona if I was leaking all over the place? At least all my make-up was washed off, nothing like sporting the raccoon look as a surefire sign of girlish bawling.

 

The bed dipped down next to me as Rowan took a seat on my right. I could tell he was as uncomfortable as I am around crying women and I didn't want to make this any harder for him.

 

“Sorry,” I said, rubbing at my eyes roughly, “you don't have to stay here, I'm fine now.”

 

Rowan grabbed my hands and forced them to my sides. I blinked rapidly in response, trying to keep the tears from obstructing my vision. He let go of my hands and pulled me toward him in a shallow embrace without saying anything. I seized up at the contact; it was WAY too intimate for me. It took me a good long while to get to this stage in the game and there had been no preliminaries.

 

He brought me in closer, in answer to my tension, placing his face in the nape of my neck, as he inhaled deeply. I was further unprepared to be lifted by the crook of my knees into his lap, whoa there, this was VERY up close and personal all of a sudden.

 

At this distance, my senses seemed to do a double take and revved up beyond anything I had ever felt for any guy previously, even Joe. I felt Rowan tip my head up and watched with wide eyes as he slowly licked at the trail of tears dribbling down my face, starting from my chin to my cheeks. Inexplicably, his doing that stirred something inside of me and I made the first move. Guess Lisa was right about that withdrawal theory, but something told me this was different.

 

I turned myself in his lap, setting parted knees on either side of him. His momentary surprise was the perfect opportunity to kiss him, so I did. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I started running my fingers through his short, soft hair, I found myself suddenly loving the buzz cut. It seemed this was all the invitation Rowan needed, because he started making this grumbling noise, like a deep purr, it was very, very nice.

 

The next thing I knew, Rowan jumped off the bed, spun around, and threw me back onto the covers in all of a nanosecond. Damn those Weres could move fast! I risked looking into his eyes and what I saw gave me Goosebumps, from both fear and excitement. Those violet orbs were glowing, casting an iridescent indigo circle of light. Rowan was staring down at me like he couldn't decide if he wanted to fuck me or bite me, or perhaps both.

 

Thinking this was a critical moment in making a case for my continued existence; I lay very still and made no sudden movements. Seemed it was past the time for any aggressive overtures on my part. Luckily, Rowan took this as a sign of come hither as opposed to a neck snapping gesture and lowered himself carefully on top me. I tensed again when he started sniffing and licking at my neck but soon realized I was no longer on tonight's menu.

 

I uttered a soft cry seconds later when he ripped off my black satin shorts, tank top, and underwear with an odd combination of fumbling and preternatural speed. I made a move to reciprocate but was met with a soft warning growl. Okay I got it, keep my hands to myself. I didn't like being the only one in the room naked but I wasn't going to argue with Rowan right now.

 

This whole experience had a bit of learning curve and I trying my best not to end up on the wrong side of Rowan's canines. My eyes followed his every move and I sucked in my breath as he tore off his shirt, pants and boxers, trying desperately not to stare bug-eyed like I had before.

 

The bedroom was dark, with only the dim illumination of the hallway nightlight visible from the bed. But I swore there was silvery incandescent light emanating from somewhere; it looked like it was centered right behind Rowan. But that was impossible, wasn't it? Then, Rowan bent down to kiss me and I stopped thinking altogether.

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3:00 a.m. EST

Milford, DE

Nikolai's House

 

Nikolai watched as Darastus angrily stomped about his parlor, rattling the china in the nearby cupboard with every footstep. It seemed the vampire mage's plan to capture the Thompson girl had failed, his “elite vampire troop” decimated by the Uig Pack's Beta Guard.

 

Truth be told, the Russian lupinara was a little relieved by tonight's outcome. He hadn't really wanted to acquire Theryn by force, considering her role in his recovery and Darastus was dead set on doing just that. Nikolai thought it would be better to lure her to them, avoiding the need for vampire goons to do the dirty work.

 

Tightening his mouth into a thin line, he reconciled the evening's results. They may not have gotten the girl, but they did manage to dump the potion on her and according to Darastus, and accompanying confirmations from Eugene, Calvin and James, it was an important step in their plans. In fact, it had been a most vital step in Nikolai's short and long-term plans for his druid savior.

 

Darastus came sweeping into the library, stroking his chin in a clear sign of annoyance. The vampire had shown little remorse for the death of his Sussex County vampires, if anything, it seemed he would bring them back from hell himself if only he could kill them again. Nikolai got the distinct feeling that one did not cross the ancient vampire lightly, something to be filed away for further reflection later.

 

“We can cast a Level Onyx sleep spell, something that will put our resident protector on his knees. It will leave the girl defenseless,” the aged vampire exclaimed.

 

Nikolai raised his brows steeply. He'd learned a thing or two about spell casting in his time with the mages and a Level Onyx spell was only a step above the very blackest magic available to the mage class. Rowan would be lucky to awake at all after a spell like that; he'd skip right past Rip Van Winkle into a permanent coma, the kind that ensures brain death.

 

“I have no need to make enemies of the Uig Americana Pack and I fear I've already brought too much attention to myself as it is. I highly doubt they'll be able to ignore a blatant assassination attempt on their Beta Guard, Darastus,” Nikolai cautioned.

 

The vampire ignored him, “Or perhaps a Level Jade disorientation spell, he'll be worse than a mongoose on LSD. Surely, we could slip her out from under his nose that way…”

 

Just then Meghan burst into the library, bawling her eyes out, clutching a heart-shaped bowl in her hands, while grey papery ashes flew out it, fluttering to the floor at her feet. She had changed out of her designer outfit and red wig and was back to wearing her staple low-rider jeans and baby sized tee shirt, because like all the classes of predator Weres, she was resistant to the cold.

 

Running up to Darastus, she drew swiping fingers at her mascara laden eyes, oily black lines followed in their wake.

 

Screeching like a tortured banshee, Meghan shrieked, “It didn't work, it didn't work! You told me if I gave that girl at the party the perfume, you'd give me a love spell that worked!”

 

Nikolai watched as Darastus initially seemed surprised by Meghan's revelation, and then grew contemplative. Only he saw the slight upward tilt of his mouth as he drew his head down to address the teenager's fears.

 

“My dear, my dear, please calm yourself,” Darastus cooed, pulling out a lacy handkerchief then handing it to Meghan.

 

The young lupinara blew heartily into the ornate silk fabric, smearing her garish red lipstick in the process. Sniffing and hiccupping like a fool, she stared up at the much taller vampire with violence in her eyes.

 

“Why didn't it work?! I did everything you told me to, the incense in the bowl, my love letter's ashes, lipstick kisses on the envelopes, why isn't he here by now? You said he'd come to my call!” Meghan accused.

 

Darastus gave the girl a weak smile, “Dear child, did you forget the most important part of my spell?”

 

Meghan shook her head no in defense.

 

“Oh but I swore I told you that if your intended is a fellow lupinara, you must wait until the night before the full moon, when his defenses are weakest against spell magic. Otherwise, all you get is a room reeking of burnt incense and charred paper,” Darastus explained.

 

The vampire looked genuinely saddened by Meghan's failure and Nikolai observed his shrewd manipulations with a wary eye.

 

“Here,” Darastus gestured with an out swept arm, “Come into the dining room with me and we'll get you all set up for next time. You'll just have to wait a little bit longer for the results I'm afraid.”

 

Meghan was trying to stop his propelling her toward the dining room, “But I don't remember you ever telling me about waiting until the day before the full moo--”

 

Nearly throwing the girl into the table Darastus cut her off swiftly and yelled back in through the closed door, “No need to feel foolish child, I'll be right there to help you, no need to be concerned.”

 

Nikolai chortled out loud once the vampire re-entered the library. Night before the full moon indeed…what horseshit. It's a good thing his Uig contact knew diddlysquat about magic or she'd be questioning the validity of Darastus's claim.

 

Smiling widely, Nikolai made his amusement known, “Nice save on the spell Darastus, but I must say it's surprising, considering you were counting on Meghan's love spell to derail Mr. Campbell from any attempts to rescue our druid tonight.”

 

Oddly enough, Darastus was not put off by Nikolai's implications in the least.

 

“Yes, Nikolai, you are right. I had planned on using that silly girl's infatuation to our advantage but this is not a set back, we've just lost the element of surprise, for now.”

 

“I don't understand. Why didn't Meghan's spell work? We've only just found out about your vampires' deaths, there's no way you could have know ahead of time to diffuse it. If all was going according to plan until a few minutes ago, why didn't the spell work?” Nikolai asked.

 

Darastus sat down on the butter yellow leather chaise, crossed his legs slowly, while threading his fingers together in a manner that projected confidence and smug satisfaction.

 

Smiling a most sinister grin, Darastus answered in a hushed voice, “Because no amount of magic will make a love spell work on a lupinara who has already been mated. Their instincts will block even magic's formidable influence from manipulating their already dedicated desires.”

 

Nikolai grew pensive, had that been the case with him? Quickly shrugging off those memories, he asked another question, Rowan had a mate? This is when keeping a mostly solitary existence was detrimental to a werewolf, he knew next to nothing about any of his brethren's affairs, and it was times like this when such knowledge could be crucial.

 

Darastus saw his perplexed state and answered in kind, “I assume Rowan must have mated with a fellow lupinara in the Uig Pack. He's been of age for over eight years now; we shouldn't be all that surprised really.”

 

Of course that was the case. Nikolai chastised his friends for missing such obvious conclusions in their research and here he was doing the same. The Beta Guard was coming up on thirty soon, it would be stupid to presume he'd remained unmated all this time. No matter, it had little effect on his plans now. Meghan would just have to find a new wolf to go sniffing around; he had little use for her anymore.

 

Darastus rose from his perch on the chaise and started to head into the dining room, but stopped just as he put his hand on the door.

 

“Don't worry about the plans Nikolai. We're a stones throw away from everything we've ever dreamed, and if we're lucky, maybe more.”

 

The double fanged lupinara's eyes followed the vampire's steps into the dining room and watched as he softly closed the door behind him. He hoped this angle they were working would be it, the answer to his prayers. If all worked out as he and Darastus had planned, he'd be free again, and have in his possession the key to turning the supernatural world upside down, it was only a matter of time.

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8:00 a.m. EST

Wilmington, DE

Theryn's Apartment

 

I woke up staring at the sun brightened wall next to my bed. How'd I manage to squish myself all the way over here? It was all too much to think about this early in the morning anyway. I started to stretch languidly when my left foot hit a rather unyielding hairy calf at my side. Oh shit, it was coming back to me now. This was awkward.

 

I very slowly, very carefully twisted myself around to face what I knew was going to be one Rowan Campbell, personal werewolf bodyguard turned personal pity fuck. How could I have been so stupid? Did crying always transform women into such easy lays? Being that I was thirteen the last time I cried, I had no comparison. See, bottled up emotions manifesting into tears is dangerous people!

 

Looks like both Lisa and Heather were right: score 2 for team Know It Alls. Shame I'd been sitting on the bench the entire season. Damn it, I hated the morning walk of shame and what's worse, I couldn't send this guy home with a cup of coffee and some cab fare.

 

Seeing as Rowan was still sleeping rather soundly, (tired him out, didn't I?) I moved cautiously around his lumbering form, sore in all kinds of places I'd forgotten could get sore. He made a grumbling sound and proceeded to grab me by the midriff and lock me to his side with his massive forearm. This wasn't good, I had to pee. Unless Rowan wanted to wake up in a waterbed that wasn't here last night, I needed to bust a move.

 

Making incremental progress and feeling like I was trying out for the Twister Olympics in Hell, I finally made it out of Rowan's half nelson and into the bathroom. Taking care of morning business, I started up the shower and prepared to start the day sans any foreign body fluids.

 

Speaking of, good thing I was on the birth control pill or I'd be grilling Rowan right now about the genetic compatibility between humans and Weres. I knew I was fine on the STD front as Weres couldn't contract communicable diseases, or even cancer. Rare was the Were whom died of illness or infection, human doctors were still trying to figure out how they did it.

 

Pouring my new “just for brunettes” shampoo into my hand, I started to scrub my hair furiously, laughing quietly as I figured I must have worked up quite a sweat last night. As I brushed the back of my neck, I felt wickedly raised welts going from my hairline past the base of my nape.

 

Jumping about two feet in the air in my surprise, I crashed to the floor of the tub with a resounding thud. It was in this state that Rowan found me, flailing about like a landed fish with soap suds falling in my eyes and half swathed in the transparent rubber duck shower curtain I'd brought down in an unsuccessful attempt to save myself from going ass over tin cup. Just the way you want to be met by your lover the morning after, I was a sexy bitch. Not.

 

Throwing me the towel I had set aside, a gloriously naked Rowan reached in and turned the water off, then crossed his arms as an expression of his curiosity. I stared up at him from my perch in the porcelain basin of doom, trying to remember why I'd freaked out to begin with.

 

Luckily, Rowan chose this moment to break out in uproarious laughter. He was doubled over as if in pain, slapping his knee in unadulterated glee. I'd never seen a man so overcome by hysterics. He had tears coming out of his eyes and it was obvious he was fighting for breath, he was laughing so damn hard. Well I'm glad I could provide more than one type of entertainment.

 

Nearly breaking into giggles myself I suddenly remembered what had made me think it would be advisable to jump in panic on a slippery hard surface, it was those funny welts on my neck.

 

I sat up abruptly and in doing so, incited Rowan to get control of his mirth and help me out of the tub. Quickly tying the minimum coverage towel under my arms, which he seemed to take as a personal affront, I pushed my soapy wet locks out of the way, pointed to the back of my neck and asked in a mildly alarmed falsetto, “What the hell is that?”

 

For the following three seconds you could have heard a pin drop Rowan was so silent. I grabbed a small hand held mirror from underneath the sink and did one of those double mirror inspections you usually reserve for checking out the hair on back of your head. What I saw nearly gave me seven years bad luck.

 

There were five distinctly raised trail marks that went from nape to mid back and under my right shoulder in the pattern of a J; it would be a backwards J for anyone looking at it. The marks were an angry red color, but didn't hurt at all for some reason. Seeing this clearly now, and Rowan's subsequent reaction, I just assumed he'd scratched me at some point during our “escapades” and was embarrassed by his marking me. He was left handed after all.

 

No biggie, they'd heal, I'd freaked out for nothing. Hey wait a minute, that pattern looked sort of familiar though, where had I seen it? Oh yeah, that's right, it was in that chapter on werewolf mating from the textbook Dom had given me. I think it was the `claiming mark' the one that lupinaras gave to their prospective mate before the `wedding band' mark, kind of like an engagement ring, yeah I remember now.

 

Just as I was congratulating myself on how well I was retaining all the intricacies on diverse werewolf customs, it dawned on me that the claiming mark was now prominently displayed on ME. Must have been some denial borne delayed reaction because Rowan turned to me at that moment with the most apologetic look I'd ever seen on another human being, er werewolf.

 

Deciding even though this qualified as “really big stuff,” I was through being such a selfish bitch. Plus, I much preferred Rowan laughing anyway, so I smiled at him and let the towel drop from my body onto the tile in a deliberate thump.

 

In my best impression of a high-maintenance snob I told him, “You do realize this doesn't get you out of buying a ring, don't you?”

 

Rowan looked momentarily shocked, then horrified, then relieved. Scooping me up like I weighed nothing, he carried me back into the bedroom, a great big grin on his face.

 

I decided I'd worry about all the other stuff later. For now I had a guy who could still find me attractive after seeing me blinking and sputtering in a bathtub swaddled in a yellow rubber duck shower curtain. Sometimes the big stuff can wait.