Chapter 17 Theodore
Theodore
“Rory!”
The name tore from my throat, but he didn’t even flinch. Just stood there frozen at the window like he’d seen a ghost.
“Rory!” I tried again, louder this time.
Nothing. Not even a twitch.
When he failed to respond for the third time, I leapt out of bed, ignoring Freddy’s indignant hiss as I charged towards him. My foot caught on something—our discarded clothes—and I stumbled, nearly crashing into the wall.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded.
Fear clawed at my ribs. He looked completely vacant, like someone had switched off the lights behind his eyes. I wrapped my arm around his naked torso, pulling him against me.
Our skin touched, and his fear slammed into me like a tidal wave, so intense and absolute that my knees nearly buckled.
It wasn’t just empathy or concern; I was experiencing his terror firsthand, as if it had bypassed my mind entirely and lodged directly in my soul.
My heart rate shot up to match his, my breath catching in my lungs.
For a long, disorienting moment, I couldn’t distinguish his panic from my own.
Images flashed through my mind that weren’t mine—blurred impressions of trees, movement—coming too fast to grasp. Then a scent—like the first rainfall after drought, when parched concrete exhales its relief—unusually strong, almost suffocating.
I pulled back slightly, staring at my arm across his chest in confusion. In my years as a telepath, I’d never experienced anything like this—this wasn’t reading thoughts or emotion—this was something deeper, something else. Like our nervous systems had somehow merged.
“Rory, talk to me. What the fuck is going on?”
He lifted one trembling finger, pointing out the window into the darkness beyond.
I followed his gaze, pressing my face close to the glass. The Highland night stared back—pine trees swaying gently in the breeze, shadows that could have been anything or nothing at all.
“What? There’s nothing there.”
“Fuck! He’s gone!” Rory’s voice cracked like a whip.
“What? Who?”
Rory’s eyes were wide and wild, pupils dilated with shock or terror or both.
“Dev.”
I dropped my grip on him, shuffling away, just slightly. An odd sensation rushed through me—that stomach-dropping feeling of freefalling, the world tilting sideways beneath my feet. “What do you mean?” I asked quietly.
“Dev! I saw Dev out there. And he saw me!”
I stared at Rory, trying to process what he was saying. Was Rory… okay? Too tired from the day’s events? Had he hated what we’d just done so much that he’d manifested his ex--boyfriend to come save him?
“It was probably one of your family, Rory.”
“No, it was him. He smiled at me. Then he motioned for me to come outside!”
“Are you sure?” I reached out to touch his arm.
The instant my fingers made contact with his skin, another wave crashed over me—this time a volatile fusion of anger and hurt so potent it knocked the breath from my lungs.
It was as if Rory’s pain had been injected directly into my bloodstream, flooding every nerve ending with his anguish.
My vision blurred at the edges, overwhelmed by emotions that weren’t mine but felt utterly real.
“Yes!” Rory snapped.
Then his thoughts barrelled into my mind, so clear they might as well have been spoken aloud:
…of course he doesn’t believe me…
I jerked my hand back as if I’d been burned. What the fuck was happening to me? In all my years of telepathy, I’d never experienced anything remotely like this. His emotions, his very essence, seemed to be bleeding into me without any barriers.
My mind scrambled for rational explanations. Maybe exhaustion was making me more susceptible to stray thoughts. Maybe spending so much time with Rory had somehow made me more attuned to his particular mental frequency. Maybe—
…why did I even expect him to?…
The thought sliced through me like a blade. I couldn’t even attempt to block it—it would have been like trying to stop a tsunami with my bare hands.
I stumbled backwards until my spine hit the wall. The look Rory gave me in return was a knife to my gut. This really was the worst possible timing. Why couldn’t Dev have waited until morning to decide to be alive?
“Okay,” I said, attempting to inject genuine conviction into my voice. “I believe you, of course.”
But even as the words left my mouth, I knew it was too late. The damage was done, written clearly across Rory’s face in the disappointed set of his shoulders, the way his eyes had shuttered against me.
…yeah, right…sure you do…
“Did you see which way he went?”
“No, he disappeared when I blinked.”
I bit back my question about why the fuck he didn’t knock on the door, if he had indeed seen Rory. “Okay…”
I stood there, chest heaving, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Was I reacting like this because I’d been so certain Dev was dead?
In my line of work, missing persons cases rarely ended with happy reunions.
The statistics were grim after forty-eight hours.
I’d prepared myself for identifying a body up here.
Or… was I having this reaction because the idea of the ex that Rory adored being alive meant—
No. I couldn’t think about that right now.
I forced myself to focus as Rory yanked his shirt over his head with jerky, frantic movements. The determined set of his jaw told me everything I needed to know—he was about to charge out into the Highland night like a knight in shining armour.
“Rory, wait—”
But he was already pulling on his jeans, hopping on one foot as he struggled with the fabric. Christ, he was actually going to do it. Going to sprint out there in pursuit of what might have been a shadow, a trick of moonlight, or another member of his family who wanted to hurt him.
I grabbed my own clothes from the floor, cursing under my breath.
“Didn’t you say your family has CCTV all over their property?” I managed, fumbling with my belt buckle as I tried to catch up with his frenzied dressing.
Rory stopped mid-motion, one arm through his jacket sleeve.
“Yes!” His face lit up with sudden brightness. He slipped his phone from his pocket, fingers flying across the screen. “I’ll ring Felix.”
I breathed a small sigh of relief. At least this bought us some time, some actual evidence before Rory went tearing off into the darkness.
Felix’s phone rang once, then twice. Disappointment threaded through me when I realised he might very well be in mid-air currently—who knew what time their flight had ended up being?
“Felix!” Rory’s voice carried a note of desperate relief.
“Rory? What’s—”
“We need you to check the CCTV cameras around my family’s estate. Now. It’s urgent.”
A pause crackled through the speaker. “Right, well… we’re still at the airport. Four-hour delay, and I’ve had to check in all my equipment.”
“Well, do you think you could do something on your phone?”
Another pause, longer this time. I could practically hear Felix’s nervous fidgeting through the connection.
“Umm… not really…”
Rory’s face crumpled with frustration. I caught his eye and gave him a warning look.
When Rory spoke again, his voice had taken on an artificially bright tone that almost made me laugh, despite the situation. “Well, thank you anyway, Felix. Have a nice flight.”
“Um… okay?” Felix’s confusion bled through the phone. “I’ll go through any cameras I can get access to as soon as I reach the hotel tomorrow.”
Another syrupy thank you, then Rory hung up.
“Great work,” I said. “Real growth, here. But next time, try meaning it as well.”
A sock hit me square in the face.
“Right, let’s go, then,” Rory announced, already moving towards the bedroom door. “If you’re coming with me.”
The challenge in his voice was unmistakable—he expected me to find an excuse, to talk him out of this, to abandon him when it mattered most.
“You know I’m coming with you.” I wrestled with my shirt. “But we need to ring Seb first.”
“No time for that!”
Before I could reply, Rory was already thundering down the cottage stairs, his footsteps echoing through the narrow stairwell like gunshots. I followed, fumbling for my phone as I took the steps two at a time.
I jammed Seb’s name, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I laced up my hiking boots.
No answer.
“Well, we tried!” Rory said.
I grumbled under my breath. “Bloody nocturnal vampire should be answering his phone, for fuck’s sake.”
The thought of ringing Kit flickered through my mind, but I didn’t have the strength for another argument. Besides, Rory already had the front door open, letting in a rush of air that carried the scent of pine and damp earth.
A soft patter of tiny paws on wood announced Freddy’s arrival. The ferret scampered across the floor, launching himself onto Rory’s shoulder.
Rory turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss to Freddy’s matted grey nose. “Dev loved Freddy. Maybe he can help us.”
Of course he bloody did. The thought stabbed through me with unexpected venom. Perfect Dev, who is amazing and awesome and does modelling on the side and loves zombie ferrets that bite you. Perfect in every way… aside from trampling all over Rory’s heart.
I grabbed my rucksack from the side table, slinging it over my shoulder as we stepped out into the night. Moonlight illuminated the path ahead—at least it was a mostly cloudless night, silver light casting everything in sharp relief.
We reached the end of the cottage path, where the manicured garden gave way to wild Highland terrain. Rory lifted his face to the breeze, nostrils flaring as he sampled the air.
“I need to shift to track him properly,” he said, already reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
His clothes hit the ground with lightning speed—the man could undress faster than anyone I’d ever met. While I stuffed them into my bag, he glanced around, apparently searching for somewhere private to complete his transformation.
“You can just shift here,” I said. “I’ve seen you shift now, anyway.”