9
SERENA
I was pissed. Pissed that I’d been caught unprepared — with my pants down, so to speak — and even more pissed that I couldn’t catch on.
Most of all I was pissed that my contacts apparently knew more about my mission than I did. That Xiomara would just throw me to the wolves like this, which in retrospect, was a funny choice of words.
Nothing made any sense, yet somehow everything this beautiful Nordic god was telling me was exactly what I felt at the time. Almost as if he were feeding my own thoughts and emotions directly into my head. Planting them there, like some kind of hypnotist.
And such a beautiful Nordic god, too…
Only he wasn’t a hypnotist. That I was sure of. The strange prickly heat I was experiencing had nothing to do with what he was saying or suggesting to me, because I’d felt it even before I’d left Damian’s bed.
But if not that, then what?
“Well if you’re wolves,” I said, deciding to humor them, “you’re the shittiest wolves I’ve ever seen. You look a hell of a lot like people. And I’ve yet to see either one of you lick your own asshole.”
Damien laughed. I guess he was the funny one. Broderick scowled, and his scowl told Damien that he shouldn’t be laughing… but he kept laughing anyway.
I was starting to see their dynamic.
“We’re humans, obviously,” said Broderick. “But there are times we assume wolf form.”
I nodded, as if everything he said were obvious fact. “So like werewolves?”
“No,” he countered quickly. “Not like werewolves.” The term was either offensive, or it irritated the shit out of him. I stored that information away for later. “That’s Hollywood bullshit.”
“So then… no full moon stuff? Silver bullets? Garlic?” I was having fun now. “Wait, the garlic thing is for vampires, right? How about holy water? Is that—”
“More Hollywood bullshit,” said Damien. “Although I’ve never really tried the holy water thing.”
He made a funny throat-slitting motion behind Broderick’s back, trying to tell me to cool it. But I was on a roll.
“Can I feed you after midnight? Get you wet? What about sunlight?” It was merciless, but I didn’t care. “Come to think of it, you both seem like night owls. Do you sleep in dog beds? Walk in circles before lying down?”
“We’re Lycanthropes,” said Broderick, doing his best to ignore me. “Shape-shifters.”
“Shape-shifters…” I repeated. I stopped short of the eye roll.
“Yes.”
It occurred to me suddenly that maybe they were my assignment. That maybe these guys were once a part of the Hallowed Order after all, and something had happened to them. I didn’t know if I was supposed to help them or babysit them. All I knew was Xiomara would be getting an earful.
“Alrighty then,” I said cheerfully. “Let’s see it.”
Broderick blinked suspiciously. “See what?”
“See your Lycanthropy.”
They were staring back at me, so I clapped my hands together theatrically. “Go on, do it, the both of you! I want to see you turn into wolves.”
Damien’s mouth curled into a wry grin. For a split second he looked like he might consider it. Broderick sighed however.
“We can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
The big Scandinavian shook his head slowly. “Sorry, it just doesn’t work that way.”
I was caught staring again, and for a second my guard dropped. God… he looked so much like Alex. Same cheekbones, same jawline. Same military-style hair that I loved running my fingers through, especially in the last few days before haircuts.
And those eyes… ice-blue and piercing. The same eyes Alex looked down at me with. They seemed to hold the same passion, the same ferocity…
“He’s right though,” said Damien. “In order for the change to happen there needs to be some sort of a catalyst. Fear, danger, adrenaline… something primal and urgent. It’s not like we can just turn at will. Not now, anyway.”
There was something more to his last statement, but I didn’t know what. Instead of pursuing it, I let out an exaggerated sigh.
“So you’re wolves, but you can’t prove to me that you’re wolves, so I just have to take your word for it. Sound about right?”
“Yes.”
“How very fucking convenient.”
I was at the end my rope. I’d let them have their say, and they were just toying with me now. Or they were deluded. Or maybe on some level they even believed their own bullshit. Didn’t matter which one really, because my next step was simple:
I needed to talk to Xiomara.
“Hey…”
I turned, and suddenly Damien was standing before me. Despite just having the weirdest conversation ever, his closeness was still reassuring.
“You okay?”
He slid an arm around me, and that was reassuring too. He was still Damien. Still my sexy surfer. For some reason, he just made me feel safe.
“I’m fine,” I assured him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“What’d you do to Boone?”
I froze, letting the question dangle unanswered.
“Excuse me?”
“In the alleyway,” Damien went on. “How exactly did you do that?”
I’d asked them a dozen questions already, and they’d answered all them. But somehow being cross-examined was the last thing I expected.
“I… I—”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” said Damien, giving me an easy out. “But consider this: nobody would believe what you did unless they actually saw it.” He paused, nodding back toward Broderick. “Just like no one would believe what we just told you either, unless they saw it too.”
His hands were on my hips now. Kinda like they were before, only much different.
“But not seeing it? In either scenario?” Damien looked back at me and shrugged. “It doesn’t make it any less true now, does it?”
My eyes shifted over to Broderick as the point hit home. I nodded slowly.
“Can I use your room for a minute?” I asked.
Damien broke into grin. “Again?”
“Alone this time,” I smirked.
“Alright, sure.”
As I pushed past him his eyes narrowed. He called back to me from over his shoulder.
“Wait, you’re not gonna steal anything, are you?”
“No, but I may break something.”
I heard him groan audibly. “What?”
“A West African woman’s ass.”