33. HIVE
thirty-three
X ander had posted two videos within less than two hours. According to him, the morning light was too good to waste.
“Whoa, are you remodeling, hive?”
We jumped in our ergonomic chair—Xander himself preferred sitting on one of those big balls, but we were not a fan.
“Uh, we’re just taking a quick break,” we said and put our phone away. We’d spent a good chunk of the morning learning about how to get off old wallpaper and put on new one.
“Aw, no worries. Do you need a hand with anything? You know my fam is super into all the real estate stuff, and when I was a kid and studying dance, they would still drag me along and force me to do all this handyman stuff. Uncle Atkins said I needed a real trade to fall back on.” He narrowed his eyes. “He says I’m no longer allowed to order salad when I go out with them.”
“We are…sorry?”
Xander nodded while he opened his favorite aroma oil and dropped some on a ceramic lotus flower that sat on the receptionist counter behind which our desks were located.
“Yeah. It’s just salad, you know. Salad is delicious.”
We nodded. “We make salad for Leo very often. He is such a good gardener, and the chard and collard greens have been doing especially well this year.”
Xander’s eyes fixed on us in a predatory werewolf gaze. “I know. Oh, hive, I’m so freaking glad I hired you. I knew when you walked in here, smelling like the Moonlight Diner.”
“Uh, well—”
“I’ll wallpaper your walls, and you make salad for me, okay? With leftovers. I like leftovers, especially when they’re salad.”
“We don’t think—”
“I swear I won’t even look at your mate if you’re worried about that. I’ve seen the comments on my videos, and I know what people are saying.”
We didn’t because we hadn’t followed his releases, but we could imagine. “We should ask Leo first.”
“No. I mean, yeah, ask the cutie, which I mean as a totally platonic endearment. I’ll show him some tantric yoga while I’m there.” He winked at us. “You’ll reap the benefits from that for years to come. Insert cum joke here, except we aren’t that infantile, right?”
Like many werewolves, Xander had a very toothy grin. We supposed this wasn’t too bad a deal—not because of the tantric yoga, but because if he helped with the wallpaper, we’d be done faster, and the faster we could move Leo and us into the new room the better.
“We’ll make you salad if our mate allows,” we said, using the term he was more familiar with. “You must get his permission before showing him any yoga, and you can’t bother him with anything to do with the wallpaper or how we’re going to update the room. He doesn’t want that, and we’re going to respect it.”
Xander bobbed his head eagerly. Even when he had his hair up in a bun like he did most days, he still unfailingly looked like a Golden Retriever when he got excited about something, and yoga always got him excited. We were pretty sure it was why all his courses were always booked and why so many of his students stayed after class to ask all those yoga and lifestyle questions.
***
The next few days were some of the busiest we’d had in a while, and despite having more tolerance to the heat than Leo or Tate, given they were human, we were glad to be working at the Dazzle and get the reprieve of the significantly cooler underground.
Leo was very helpful with the soapmaking, and much like we had thought he might, he started helping out before long. The bedroom we would share got messier before it got nicer, but Xander had some advice for us that we hadn’t even considered. He was able to borrow the tools to pull out the carpet and lay down a nice wooden floor rather than putting down carpet again.
Leo seemed to enjoy the way Xander appreciated the garden vegetables, and he promised Xander any surplus zucchinis.
Everything in our life was good. Having Leo was like a balm against the pains of our past, and we knew that things would only get better with each day we got to spend with him.
We came to the yoga studio one morning near the end of September, already smiling despite how we were sweating at ten in the morning. Our computer came to life quickly, and we managed to get most of our work for the day done within the hour.
Xander wasn’t there yet when the phone rang. Normally we weren’t responsible for the phone, but we knew this might be someone wanting to book a class, so we rolled our chair over to Xander’s desk and picked up.
“Wolf Lotus Yoga Studio, how may we help you?”
There was breathing on the other end. A shiver ran down our spine, and we dropped the carton of cashew milk, spilling some on Leo’s arm.
“Sh—hive, are you okay?”
We couldn’t speak. Our throat had closed up. This couldn’t be happening, not in front of Leo. Anything, anything but that.
“So it’s you, huh. That’s where you went.”
The voice wasn’t loud over the phone. We’d have recognized it anywhere. We knew it from our nightmares.
“Hive? Hive! Shit, what’s wrong, what do I do?”
Leo was on his feet. We were on the kitchen floor. We were upstairs on the bathroom floor and sitting up in bed where we’d thought to sleep in with one. We were sitting at the kitchen table and watching Leo try to comfort us, and we were at the yoga studio.
We were holding the phone, and that human was on the other end. He knew it was us.
“You’re mine, bought and paid for. I’m coming to get you.”
He hung up. We stared at the phone, our vision blurring while we trembled.
“Hive!”
Leo’s voice cut through the fear. We looked up at him.
“Oh. There’s cashew milk all over your feet.”
“Fuck that. What’s wrong? Tell me now. Shit, where is the rest of you? What do I do? I need to get you all together, right?”
“We are fine,” we said. Our voice broke terribly on the last word, mangling it and turning it into a grating sob.
“No, you’re not. Okay, come on, we’re trying this. Can you stand? Wait, don’t move.”
He pointed at the one still sitting at the kitchen table. We very carefully put the phone back on its cradle and put our hands on the desk, fingers splayed.
“Oh, no,” we said. We weren’t sure with how many we had spoken, and we weren’t sure if Leo had heard. “Oh, no, oh, no.”
“Come on, up the stairs. I’m putting you in my room, and then I’m going to go and get you home from the studio.”
No . That human had said he was coming to get us. That human still wanted us. He might see Leo. He might hurt Leo. Or he might decide he wanted Leo.
Leo was almost on the stairs with the one, dragging cashew milk all over the carpet when we rushed to him, all of us, putting our arms around him to make sure he didn’t leave.
“No. We can’t let you get hurt, and he would hurt you. You can’t leave. He’s out there. You can’t, Leo, promise us.”
We didn’t really know how Leo managed to stay quiet, but he reached out, wiped the tears from one of our cheeks and stroked along a back heaving with sobs.
“Hive. Who the hell are you talking about?”
We would have to tell Leo, would have to tell him everything, and he would be disgusted with us. All the happiness we had found vanished like ice in boiling water.