Chapter Twenty-Eight
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Darcy sat in Angie’s Diner, drinking coffee and tearing a donut to shreds. Rain ran in clear rivulets down the glass windows. The diner was almost empty. Apparently, the noisy storm had discouraged people from venturing outside.
After a swallow of coffee, she resumed tracing her finger through the brown liquid she’d spilled on the table. She wasn’t really hungry. Bree had made huge omelets for breakfast. Of course, that had been hours ago.
Face it, her appetite had fled because the full moon was tomorrow. As Vicki would say…god fucking dammit all to hell.
Gawain and Owen weren’t back.
Honestly, they’d been gone…forever…delivering the Dogwood females to the various territories. Okay, four days. She’d heard from them only once—using Shay’s phone—but like Tynan, they were being exceedingly cautious about being traced. She agreed. Once the Scythe rebounded from losing the prìosan and forest compound, they’d start a hunt for their lost shifters.
Ice filled her belly at the thought. She still wondered if she should have disappeared into Canada as she’d planned. At the time, she’d expected the villagers would all hide together. Scattering made more sense. Probably.
She sighed. The days were long and dull without her guys. How long could she last without hearing Gawain’s big laugh or being wrapped in the muscular blademage’s arms. She missed Owen’s low growl and how the ever-so-deadly cahir would nuzzle her cheek. And, oh, she missed mating with the both of them.
Hunger slid into her bloodstream as she remembered the ways they’d made love—sheer carnal sex, loving sex, slow sensuous sex, fast, pounding sex, and every other variation they could think of. Sex in bed, on the floor, in mountain meadows, in the shower…although—she grinned—the lodge shower had been a bit small for the three of them.
Being with them and loving them fulfilled something in her.
She shook her head and took a sip of coffee.
As she set the cup down, she smiled at the cell phone sitting on the table. It was a present from Vicki. One evening when the females had gathered at the tavern, Vicki’d tried to thank her for going into the prìosan to get her out. In return, Darcy’d tried to thank her for the clothing, the friendship, for standing up for her, for…
They’d decided friends didn’t keep score.
This morning, Vicki’d handed over the phone with a smirk and reminded Darcy they weren’t keeping a tally. The Cosantir’s mate had a seriously devious nature.
Leaning back, Darcy finished off her coffee. The rain still fell outside…and her walk back to the lodge would be dismal. Maybe she’d run across the street to BOOKS. She was getting more repair jobs and could afford to indulge in a new book. Really, she’d probably be able to make a good living here in Cold Creek.
Her phone rang, shrill in the silent diner, and she spilled her coffee.
She picked up the cell and swiped the ANSWER. “Hello?” Must be Vicki since no one had her number.
“Darcy?” The voice was familiar—and unexpected.
“Patrin.” She frowned. “How did you get my number?”
“The Cosantir’s mate gave it to Wells so we could call you.”
Vicki, you’re an amazing friend. “Good for her. How are you guys?”
“We’re good.” After a moment of silence, Patrin said, “You’re on speaker, so…on the rare occasion Fell might speak, you can hear.”
Over the phone came a smack and a yelp. Darcy grinned. Fell had obviously walloped Patrin.
“When are you two going to be done with whatever you’re doing?” she asked.
“Not sure,” Patrin said. “Wells said something about a mandatory night off, but didn’t explain what or when. Soon, I think.”
“Good. Since Owen and Gawain have moved out of the lodge, Bree’s holding their room for you two.”
“Those the two males who were with you at the safe house?” Patrin asked.
“Mmm-hmm.” Her lips curved. Mine.
“They seemed concerned about you. Awfully fucking concerned.” Patrin’s voice held a growl.
“Well, we’re…” Mating more often than rabbits? Sleeping together? “Um, they’re my mentors in learning how to be Daonain again.”
“Oh…good. Very good. I’d thought—”
“And I care about them,” Darcy added. “A lot.”
“A lot?” Fell’s dark voice came over the phone.
“Yes. I do.”
“Chwaer…” Their word for her—sister—made her smile, despite Patrin’s disapproving tone. Oh, she had missed them.
“Darcy, being stuck in prison, you never learned about guys. How they think…” Patrin was obviously trying to keep his voice even. “And you’re all by yourself in Cold Creek with no one to protect you from assholes who will take advantage.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine in this town, thank you. And Gawain and Owen aren’t assholes. If you call them names, I’ll be seriously pissed off at you.”
The silence sounded…bad. As if her defense of her males had backfired.
“Darcy, we’ll return soon,” Patrin said finally, “and have time to spend with you. We can catch up on everything from the past.”
“Sounds wonderful. I’ve always wondered about your missions.” Although from eavesdropping on the Scythe leaders, she knew far more than her brothers realized. The shifter-soldiers had specialized in stealing, in destruction, and in assassinations. “Um, guys. You haven’t exactly been around females either, have you? Should I be giving you the same lecture?”
“Well…” Patrin cleared his throat.
“Oh my Gods, you have?” She straightened. “When? After you were released or before?”
“Before.” Patrin was getting as close-mouthed as Fell.
But hadn’t they’d been stuck in their compound? She frowned. “How did you manage to meet women?”
“When the Scythe human soldiers trained us overseas, they were careless. In the evenings, they’d pay women to join them, not knowing how well we hear, how much we can see in the dark. When we were finally sent out on our own, we…did the same now and then.”
Gawain said Daonain females never wanted humans, but that young testosterone-laden males who were unsuccessful at full moons would sometimes mate with human females. Her brothers had never been around Daonain females; they probably still didn’t know the difference. “I see.”
“So, yeah, we know how males think about females. And you need…” Patrin pulled in an audible breath. “We love you, chwaer. You’re a beautiful woman.”
“And too fucking sweet,” Fell growled.
Patrin said, “We just want you to be happy.”
“And safe.” Fell again.
Her eyes filled with tears. Patrin and Fell had changed so much. She’d seen them with the other shifter-soldiers. Their “men.” Her brothers were the alphas in charge of the deadly group. Even Wells treated them with respect.
“I am happy,” she said. Although she’d be a lot happier if Gawain and Owen would get their tails back to Cold Creek. “And I’m very safe. You two just finish up your job and get back here so you can start your lives, too.”
“Yes. We’ll see you soon, chwaer,” Patrin said gently.