Chapter Fourteen
“A deal’s discussed, between us three,”
The middle face proclaimed,
“We’ll un-True your Love, and set you free,
But your life won’t be the same.”
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
“Honey, you did great .” Clem enthused at Bill, as he came up to the table. “Oh my God, you performed even better than you practiced. Especially the second chorus.”
“All thanks to my manager’s advice.” Bill sat down beside her, but his gaze was on Luke.
Luke seemed nervous. He didn’t look away, though. His jaw was locked defiantly.
Neither one of them spoke to the other.
The interaction reminded Clem of two wild creatures sizing each other up. Well, Bill was sizing Luke up. Luke was preparing for a battle to the death. Clearly, she’d need to mediate.
“Bill, this is our very gifted neighbor, Luke. Luke, this is Bill, my superstar client, and best, best friend.”
“And your roommate.” Luke said with no intonation.
“And her roommate.” Bill murmured, draping an arm on the back of Clementine’s chair. “Clem’s quite a fan of yours.”
“I made her talk to me.” Luke claimed, which was just a downright lie. “This is my doing. Not hers.”
Clem rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I have to drag every word out of you.”
Luke flashed her an aggravated look, like he wanted her to be quiet and not draw Bill’s attention.
“Did she make you speculate that I was sleeping with Rosalee?” Bill asked in a too-calm tone.
“I volunteered my educated guess. I know how coyotes operate.”
“You don’t know how I operate. And I don’t operate like a fucking idiot.”
“You’re the smartest of us all, I guess.” Luke mocked.
“I might just be.” Bill leaned forward. “You show me another coyote who’s got what I got.”
Luke’s brow furrowed, his eyes shooting over to Clem and then back to Bill. “Well, if there was one, he’d just fuck it up.” He grumbled.
“That’s what makes me the smartest, I suppose.” Bill’s smile wasn’t very friendly. “I don’t fuck things up. I fuck people up, when they get between me and what’s mine.”
Luke’s mouth compressed into an unhappy line.
Clem had had just about enough of their random animosity. “Is this a boy thing or a coyote thing?” She asked, looking between them.
“Both, I reckon.” Her voice was enough to dissolve the tension, however. Bill finally took his gaze off of the kid. Blue eyes instantly slipped to Clem’s shoulder, where Harry had touched her.
Luke’s tone became even more defensive. “Nothing happened. That guy was just bringing a pizza.”
Bill nodded. His thumb brushed over the same spot Harry had touched.
The movement caused Luke to flinch.
Bill went still.
“Luke is phobic about touching, because the scent of other people bothers coyotes.” Clementine explained. “Is your nose really that sensitive, Bill? Is being in here overwhelming for you?”
“No, I’m fine. Coyotes have a strong sense of smell, but it’s our issue to deal with.” His attention was back on Luke. “Only weak, paranoid assholes make it about the women who sit beside us.”
Luke’s scowl didn’t fade. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Bill said with utter certainty.
Luke cautiously went back to eating his dinner.
Clem decided to take that as a truce. “ Wild Horses Run was a big hit.” She told Bill, eager to discuss his stellar debut. “But just imagine how much more fulfilled you would feel right now if you sang.”
It didn’t take a muse’s intuition to know that Bill wasn’t totally satisfied with his performance. It had been gorgeous, but it didn’t engage his creative energies. In retrospect, that was probably why he hadn’t experienced any stage fright beforehand. He’d felt no vulnerability, because he knew his performance was going to be technically flawless and emotionally safe.
It was also why she’d sensed him wanting more, even as he left the stage to enthusiastic cheers. “Safe” wasn’t enough for a real artist. They needed to experiment, sometimes soaring and sometimes falling. They needed to give it their all. Bill wouldn’t be fulfilled until he could play his own songs.
And sing.
Clem supported whatever felt right to him. …But he was supposed to be a singer. It seemed inevitable to her. Whatever happened between his parents, it couldn’t stifle Bill’s path forever. If he was singing his own songs, it would make him a lot happier.
“I don’t sing.” Bill said.
Luke made a skeptical face. He had enough musical talent to sense Bill’s potential too.
“You’ll sing,” Clem assured her stubborn best, best friend, “once you feel ready.”
Bill gave a noncommittal grunt and ran a palm over her hair. “Darlin’, is there pepperoni on that pizza slice in your hand?”
“Maybe.” She knew where this was headed, so she took another bite while she still could.
“Peperoni has a lot of salt.”
She chewed faster. “Does it?” She asked innocently.
Bill arched a brow, reminding her of her complete medical history.
Clem wrinkled her nose at his silent nagging.
“She didn’t order that.” Luke interjected with his mouth full. “It came for free.”
Bill looked distinctly skeptical.
“The Lone Prairie gives away free food to keep the seats filled.” Clementine told Bill, giving his leg a meaningful nudge with her foot. “I never told you that? I’m sure I told you that.”
“I don’t think you told me that.” Bill got the message, though. He stopped asking questions and just plucked the pizza slice out of her hand. “Free or not free,” he stressed the “not” part, “you can’t eat this.”
She made a face, letting him know that he was a jerk.
He took a taunting bite of the pizza himself, letting her know he was unrepentant.
She rolled her eyes, letting him know he wasn’t nearly as cute as he thought he was.
Bill winked, letting her know that he was indeed that cute.
(And he kind of actually was.)
Luke missed all the nonverbal communication. “You can’t take her food!” He protested angrily.
Clementine opened her mouth to explain about the miscast spell that had damaged her body and Bill’s hyper-fixation on her health, but the boy was already bounding to his feet.
“I knew you were a fucking asshole!” He shouted at Bill. “I knew you weren’t gonna treat her right! No coyote ever treats his stolen-mate right.”
Bill’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m not stolen…” Clementine began, but Luke was on a roll.
“That’s why we’re not supposed to have girls, especially not girls like this one .” Luke pointed a frantic finger towards Clem. “All our kind should stay away from her. She’s got someone better waiting. Someone nice. She’s got to!”
Bill’s jaw tightened. “He can show up and fight me for her, then. I’m willin’.”
“You’ll fight her .” Luke corrected scathingly. “That’s the way it always goes. You’ll beat the hell out of somebody pretty and sweet, because if you can’t have her, you’d rather see her broken.”
Bill slowly stood up. “Did you just tell Clem that I’m gonna hit her?” He asked in a very soft tone. “Because I don’t appreciate that.”
He was offended. Who could blame him? But Clem mostly heard the agony in Luke’s voice. This wasn’t about her and Bill’s relationship. This was about things he’d seen in his own home.
“Bill, honey, Luke doesn’t mean to insult you.” She laid a hand on his arm. “He’s just distressed.”
Luke stared at Bill, breathing hard. “I knew that you’d be just like my pa.”
Bill’s head canted to one side.
“Let’s just calm down.” Clem held up her palms in a conciliatory gesture. “Bill has never even raised his voice to me, let alone his fist. I promise you, Luke. He’s not like that.”
“He’s tricking you!” Luke bellowed. “He’s going to ruin your whole life. And then he’ll get you pregnant, to try and trap you, and ruin the kid’s life, too.”
“Is that what happened to you and your mom?” Clementine asked, already knowing the answer.
This was why the boy was concerned about coyotes having mates. Because his father had been abusive. Too many people struggled to forge healthy relationships, and the discord affected their children. Thank God Bill was so well-adjusted, given the turmoil with his own parents.
Luke stood there for a beat, clenching and unclenching his fists. He looked like he was seeing some other place and time in his head.
Clem rose and moved towards him, evading Bill’s hand when he tried to hold her safely back. Luke wasn’t a threat, except to himself. He might have a full-on meltdown without support. Even with no magical connection between them, she could still feel the chaos of his emotions like a storm in the air.
“Sweetie-pie, it’s going to be okay. Bill and I are nothing like your parents. He would never hurt me. Not every coyote is mean, remember?”
“You don’t know the shit I know.” Luke whispered. “If you did, you wouldn’t be so sure.”
“Well, tell me, then. Trust me.”
His mouth opened. Closed. “I can’t do this.” He swallowed, then went stalking off into the crowd.
Artists were always temperamental, but something about Luke’s distress cut at her heart. He was exactly like his music. Lonely and tempestuous and longing to be heard. He just needed to believe that someone wanted to listen.
Clem chased after him, unable to stop herself. “Luke!”
Bill tried to follow, but wasn’t as small as her. It was harder for him to work through the crowd. “Clem, wait. Don’t…”
“I’ll be right back!” She assured him loudly. All her instincts were telling her that she had to pull the boy out of the darkness, or he’d stay hidden forever. She caught up with Luke by the door. “Stop!” She wanted to touch his arm, but she knew he wouldn’t like it. “What’s really happening here? Talk to me.”
He glowered down at her. Angry, because it was always easier to feel anger than pain. “Why should I? You don’t want to hear what I say, so why should I talk?”
“I do hear you. It’s why I want to help.”
“I didn’t ask for your help! And I’m not gonna be dragged into your fucking doomed romance with the ‘amazing’ Bill. I warned you and you ignored me, so what happens next is all on your head.” This time he ran fast enough that she couldn’t follow him.
“Luke, don’t do this.”
“Just stay away from me!”
Clem sighed and let him go off into the twilight. For now. He needed some space. She’d try again later, when he’d calmed down. There was no way she’d just give up, when he…
“Well, if it ain’t the coyote fucker.” A new voice taunted.
Clementine turned to face the guy, trying to place him. It was one of Bill’s coworkers from the railroad. Stew Slewfoot. She recognized the scraggy beard.
“I saw ya with that cub. Seems like you gotta taste for those animals.” Stew spat out the insults, his eyes red-rimmed and angry. “Ol’ Bill couldn’t keep ya satisfied in the sack, huh?”
Clementine stifled a sigh. “Yes, I’m sleeping with both of them.” She snapped, accustomed to dealing with creeps in bars. It was part of the music business. “And I’m sleeping with everyone else in here, too.” She flicked a hand around the saloon. “…Except you , obviously, because you’re a weird bigot who smells.”
Stew’s nostrils flared, as if he had no idea how to respond to that. The man clearly wasn’t the quickest wit. Clem wasn’t sure if that was because of his inebriated state or general stupidity. It didn’t much matter.
“Leave me alone.” Clementine said firmly.
While she was still working on assertiveness in the rest of her life, drunken assholes she could handle. Ordinarily, she might be a little less assertive, actually, but Stew hated Bill. Screw him.
Stew didn’t take the hint. “What are the coyotes paying you? No Good woman would be with their kind, unless she was getting paid. Whoring’s illegal in Red River Valley.” He seized hold of her arm. “Dirty tramps like you are…”
Someone grabbed Stew’s wrist and twisted it backwards. Like all the way backwards, so bones popped and jabbed through his skin.
Bill had finally caught up with her.
Clementine flinched in sympathy for Stew’s injury, because it looked super-painful. Sure enough, the human gave an agonized, panicked scream, trying to yank free of the implacable hold. Bill helped him escape the punishing grip, by shoving him backwards.
Stew hit the table behind him, upsetting a pitcher of beer and drenching the patrons sitting there. The four men at the table immediately began shouting curses and insults. Within seconds, half the bar was involved. And the ones who weren’t fighting were running.
Chaos descended.
Clementine lifted her arms and then let them drop in dismay. This never would have happened at The Kitchen. Dinah wouldn’t tolerate it. But the Lone Prairie was a dive, and dives always seemed to breed bar fights. She’d grown used to brawls, back when Johnny had played in a variety of sketchy places. However, Johnny had never been in the middle of the war zone, like Bill was. That made things harder. She needed to keep him safe.
Although, he was doing a credible job of taking care of himself.
Bill’s eyes glowed electric blue, matching the transformative mist that circled his body. His animal-side was taking control. Through the eerie fog coating his skin, she could see a creature of massive strength and relentless focus. Bipedal, somewhere between a man and a monster, and all of its feral focus centered on its prey.
His coyote was magnificent.
“You’re a no Good snake! ” Stew screamed at him. “You gave those vengeful railroad bitches all that evidence about me and the boys slacking off on the job. You got us fired!”
Yes, that definitely sounded like Bill’s type of mischief. His ex-coworkers weren’t his favorite people. And really, if they were doing poor-quality work, they should be fired. Substandard railroad construction could endanger innocent bystanders. Bill was always looking out for the community.
“My whole life is ruined, you coyote bastard!” Stew seethed, refusing to take any personal responsibility. “You and your muse slut deserve each other!”
Clementine couldn’t agree more with that analysis. She and Bill were a perfect match. Bill’s snarl indicated that he took offense at the remark, though. Probably the “slut” part. Bill wouldn’t appreciate name-calling.
Sure enough, he grabbed for Stew with his huge, mist-covered hands. That was very worrying. Even a hangnail could impact his guitar playing.
“Bill, try and calm down! Think about your fingers!”
“Run!” Someone shouted. “Before the coyote eats us all!”
Now, that was just silly. Bill was still Bill. He was just… bigger.
“You alright?” Bill asked her, his voice darker than usual. More gravel-y and deep and wild. It sounded incredible .
“I’m fine.” Clem breathed, awed by him.
Bill’s body moved in a controlled, graceful prowl that was so stimulating to behold. He’d been more than just pretending to be a hardass with Woody. She could see that now. His deep reservoir of passion sometimes revealed itself in physical ways. Bill was fully capable of beating the shit out of people and moving like a dancer while he did it.
He was such a diverse artist.
She had approximately two-tenths of a second to register that Bill looked just as hot in his hardass coyote-form as he did in his sensitive human-form. Then, he threw Stew over the bar. Literally threw him!
Harry barely had time to duck out of the way, as the shouting human sailed through the air. Stew hit the neat shelves of liquor bottles and then the floor. A waterfall of booze and glass and wood poured onto his prone body.
Holy moly!
That was the quickest saloon fight in history.
“Cops are coming!” A woman’s voice screamed. “Everybody clear out!”
Clementine wrinkled her nose, as people stampeded for the door. Damn it. Hank was going to be pissed.