Chapter 11

 

 

 

 

The shower helped.

The bone-deep cry she had in the shower helped.

And despite what Chloe might have believed just a handful of hours ago, the stranger with fox ears and a bird’s name in her living room helped, too.

Something about him really was comforting, there was no point in denying that. And as upset and lost as Chloe felt at the moment, she wasn’t going to refuse that gift. She needed someone to give a damn about her for a change, no matter what kind of powers he came with or what he claimed about her.

Deep down, you might even believe him.

He had fox ears he could pop in and out at will, and some kind of fiery power deep inside him. More things she couldn’t deny. So why was anything else wild and crazy he said so much more unlikely to be true?

She put on her bathrobe, combed through her long, wet hair and stepped out into the hall, the smell of coffee making her mouth water. When she walked through the doorway to the kitchen, she noticed movement. Sparrow was busy pulling things out of her refrigerator—he was making sandwiches.

“Do you feel better?” he asked as she watched him.

“I do, thank you.”

“You need to eat, too. I was going to try to cook something, but—”

“I only really had lunchmeat and cheese. Haven’t been to the grocery store in a few days.”

“Well,” he said, sticking a toothpick through half a pickle and pinning it to the top of a sandwich, “I made do with what you had.”

She sat on one of the stools, admiring the graceful, fluid way he moved around her kitchen. He really was…lovely. “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

His face fell. “But you must eat and get some nutrition into your body, especially after all the imbibing last night.”

“Didn’t you take care of that when you did the…” She touched the center of her forehead. “The zappy thing?”

“I made you feel better with some mild healing, yes. But it’s far better to not neglect yourself, Gaia.”

He pushed a plate in front of her with a thick sandwich and a pickle toothpicked to the top. Chloe wondered if he’d eaten one like that or had seen pictures of deli sandwiches made that way. He seemed unfamiliar with a lot of things, like how he’d never tasted alcohol, but he knew coffee and sandwiches, it seemed. She peeled back a corner of bread to see that he’d slathered on plenty of mayo, just the way she liked it.

“Thank you.” she said. He pushed a cup of coffee toward her and leaned close, watching. So Chloe picked up the sandwich and took a big bite. He smiled and went to retrieve his own sandwich and cup.

“It’s very good,” she added.

Sparrow shrugged. “I only had to put the things together, fortunately.” He took a bite and seemed much less pleased with his sandwich than Chloe did. He sniffed at it, and the tips of his ears peeked above his hair. Chloe giggled, covering her hand with her mouth as she kept chewing, so he let his ears emerge completely and twisted them around.

She reached out to touch one, still amazed that they could be real, and he tilted his head toward her hand as if eager for more affection. A low noise came from his throat.

“Do foxes purr?” she asked.

“I am not purring! That’s only for cats.” He said the word like it was distasteful, but the quick smile made it clear his indignant tone was all for show, probably trying to keep her smiling.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, until Sparrow cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to get upset, Chloe, but why didn’t you let me punish her? Would it not have made you feel better to see her brought to task?”

Chloe chewed slowly, carefully considering his question. “It would have made me feel better, yes. But only for a moment. After that, I would have felt like I was letting you fight my battles for me. And I’m not one to do that.”

“As your guardian, it is my duty to help you fight any battles you may find yourself in.”

She took a long drink of her coffee, a painful truth settling over her. Since her father had died, who had ever helped her do anything? Even the supposed kindness of the senator taking her in hadn’t really been a kindness, but a way to give his son what he wanted in the end.

“Nobody does anything for me without an ulterior motive,” she admitted.

“I do.”

“I know it seems that way. But it’s going to take me some time to get used to.”

Sparrow nodded, as if he understood. He stroked his hand down her hair, and the touch did feel electric. She hadn’t been imagining it before.

Chloe shuddered.

Carla had been a reminder that nothing ever came easy for her, nothing ever seemed to work out the way it should. And it brought back her distrust of Norman or any Greyson or people in general with the force of a tidal wave.

Unless her mind had cracked right down the middle after Norman’s voicemail, Sparrow definitely wasn’t human. He was something otherworldly. And that intrigued her and excited her. But overcoming distrust in people generally, and men specifically, wasn’t something she could snap her fingers and do.

“I’m going to need time,” she said. “I’m not saying no. I’m saying I’m not ready to trust you that much, not yet.”

Sparrow leaned back, away from her, his eyebrows raised in the middle, looking not like a fox or a demon, but an incredibly sad puppy. It almost made her smile and embrace him, tell him everything would be okay. But he nodded his head.

“I understand. Take all the time you need, of course. I’m at your service, after all.”

“Thank you.” At least there was one part of her life where there wouldn’t be pressure, at least for a while. “I don’t want you to leave, though, if that’s all right?”

“Of course.” His face brightened, and they continued eating in silence.

Sparrow said little through the rest of the day besides asking Chloe what he could do for her, what she needed, and trying to take care of her as best he could. It warmed her, because for the first time in her life, someone’s concern actually seemed genuine.

Chloe could see Sparrow struggle with being patient when it came time for her to go to bed. She hadn’t gotten dressed through the day, opting to stay in her bathrobe and lie on the couch, a lot, once with her head in his lap while he stroked her hair.

And despite her reluctance to talk about Norman and her ruined life, she’d told Sparrow everything. How she’d been taken in by Norman and not realized what a monster he was. How his parents were generous with her, but cold. How she’d lost their baby, and Norman had turned brutal with her. How he’d drank too much too often, and had almost killed someone else while driving drunk, trying to catch her when she panicked and ran from him. That was why he’d gone to jail, and despite wishing no one had gotten hurt, Chloe was relieved he was locked up.

She told Sparrow how Norman thought they were going to get back together. How he thought Chloe belonged to him. And she could sense his anger with each new revelation and the way he kept telling her she didn’t need to worry about Norman or anyone else anymore.

She almost felt as if she was taking advantage of him, laying in his lap, confessing, but he’d suggested it, and acted as if her willingness to do so made him happy.

At bedtime, though, when she said she was going to have to sleep and headed for her bedroom without inviting him, he stood there looking forlorn, leaning forward as if it to follow her, though he made no move to do so. She stopped at her bedroom door and said, “We can just sleep again, right?”

He beamed and followed her to the bed. When she sat her alarm, Sparrow asked, “What are you doing?”

“I have work tomorrow.”

“Gaia, that’s of no concern to you now. It’s unnecess—”

“It’s my job.”

“But you no longer need to follow a human routine.”

“I know you keep saying that, but it’s another example of something that’s going to take me some time. I think I’ll feel better if I stick to my usual routine for right now, while I’m…coming to grips with things. All right?”

He’d paused for a moment, then spoke softly. “As you wish.”

The truth was, her job wasn’t the greatest thing, but it was hers alone.

Without a college degree, she’d had trouble finding a good job, but she’d started out as a simple file clerk in a law office and worked her way up to a receptionist with a lot of other duties. People hesitated to use the word secretary, but that’s essentially what she was, for three of the lawyers who worked in that firm.

The job allowed her to pay her own bills and be independent. She had responsibility there, people who relied on her, and as lost as she felt right then, if she’d given that up, she wasn’t sure if she could handle life in general.

She wasn’t ready to trust anyone that much, not even the man—the fox-demon or whatever he was—who held her so protectively.

With his warmth at her back and his gentle breath against her ear, Chloe slept like she didn’t have a care in the world.

The next morning, getting out of bed was a bigger challenge than even those mornings where her head felt three sizes too big and her stomach lurched the moment she opened her eyes. Sparrow’s body melded against hers, hard in all the right places, and Chloe felt drawn to him in a way that surprised her.

She wanted to roll over, spread her legs and take her chances. And maybe if life had treated her even a tiny bit better, she’d have been able to do that. Instead, she wanted an ordinary day to clear her head. She had time before Norman was released. Time to make decisions about whether or not to “consummate the joining” as Sparrow kept putting it.

Sparrow shadowed her as she got ready for work, and wanted to come with her, but she convinced him to stay there instead. Or go wherever he wanted, as she wouldn’t be home until after five. She offered to bring dinner home.

And then she left, and noticed that as soon as she was on the other side of her front door from Sparrow, she felt a little cooler. But she caught the train to work and walked into the office with a smile on her face, and everything went as it normally did for the first hour or so.

A delivery man carrying flowers and a box of chocolates showed up before the morning had gone on too long. “Chloe Greyson?”

A lawyer walking through frowned at him, then her. She went by Chloe Rossi here—they didn’t know her married name had been Greyson. So she waited until he’d left the room before saying, “Yes, that’s me.”

He had her sign for the delivery, then left Chloe there frowning at it all. It was sweet, but it pressured her. She was sure she’d gotten through to Sparrow that she didn’t want to be pressured. She had to take things in her own time.

Still, maybe he thought it was the appropriately human way to woo someone? In that case, it was kind of sweet.

And she wasn’t one to turn down chocolate at any time.

When she opened the long, narrow box of candy, she realized her mistake. Sparrow hadn’t sent this. Norman had. Each piece from left to right was decorated with a number, counting down the days until he was released.

A card was taped inside the lid of the candy box. Her hands shook a she opened it, and a cry tore from her when she read the simple message:

Not long now before we’re together again, Chloe, and starting the family we were supposed to have.

Her desk phone rang, but Chloe couldn’t answer it.

She shot up from the chair, dumped the box of candy and flowers into the trash can behind her desk, and raced for the bathroom, sure she was going to be sick.