Chapter 19
I swallowed as Indigo released me, swaying a little in the sudden absence of their touch. Again, I was reminded of our unfinished business from the bathroom of the arcade. About how badly I wanted to touch them the night that they’d been instructing me on stream.
“Um…” I blinked in an effort to clear the haze of arousal from my mind, sure that I was already perfuming everywhere. And, if I kept up that train of thought, it was only going to get worse.
Giving myself a shake, I focused on the room. A task that was even harder when I caught the heated look that Joon shot the alpha.
Standing in Indi’s office was weird—kind of like visiting the set of a sitcom you’d been watching for years—familliar, like I’d been here a hundred times, when it was the first time I’d ever actually set foot in the room.
The walls were all black, making the vast collection of their things pop on the floating shelves.
There was a mix of gotcha toys, spare controllers, and Punk-O figures from horror movies and games mixed between framed photos.
Their desk faced toward the hall, the door ajar, a mask that made my thighs clench with excitement hanging beside it.
I was surprised to see a collection of dolls above his desk, but they were… different.
For one, they were all in individual cases, some kind of clear glass or acrylic that made some of the larger toys press against the sides of their container.
Plus, they were a lot older than the other collectibles Indigo kept in the room.
Looking a little worse for wear in some way or another—broken face plates, chipped paint, or, in the case of one particularly sad little clown, their stuffing poking out from damaged seams.
"What are those?"
“Those are the girls,” Indigo said, excitement palpable.
"Their haunted doll collection," Joon clarified, as if he'd just told me the weather.
"I'm sorry… what?"
Indigo leaned in the doorframe, their shoulder resting against the dark-stained wood. God, they looked so good, even just casually watching, that I almost forgot to be horrified for a second.
"They’re a little shy, so I don’t talk about them much. But I’ve been collecting for a while.”
“Except Polina.” Joon corrected, stage whispering to me. “She’s a camera whore.”
Indigo scoffed, moving to stand behind me to point to each one.
"That's Sally, she's from the 1950s, and probably has an angry murdered housewife in her.
That's Annabelle. Not the famous one, obviously.
But I wouldn't be surprised if she had a demon hiding in there, she has some attitude, let me tell you…”
“And that diva in the center,” Joon pointed to a babydoll in a frilly pink dress, “is Polina. She’s Indigo’s favorite.”
“And she knows it,” the alpha said fondly. “Hey—Eva, are you okay?”
I blinked, touching my face to find it cold. This was a lot, even for me.
“Um, yeah, just a little—” I eyed the girls nervously.
"Oh! Right, I know it's not for everyone, but I like them.” They led me back into the hall, and I felt the nervous ball of energy in my chest loosen. “Feels like I'm never alone, y’know?"
"I get that."
And I did, but it was also majorly creepy. Not that I was about to tell Indi that.
"They freaked me out at first, too," Joon admitted. "But you get used to them. And I've only seen them move, like, one time."
The hair on my arms stood. "Which one?"
Joon laughed. “I think you’ve pretended to care about this tour long enough, let's go get a drink.”
“That’s so not an answer,” I whined, assuming the other rooms belonged to Cameo and Marcus.
Everything in me wanted to snoop around, but that would be way too weird, even in a house full of haunted dolls. So, I committed to waiting for an invitation.
Besides, if I said yes to this arrangement, I was sure to get one soon anyway.
Indigo led us back downstairs and into the kitchen, which was… jarring to say the least.
Where the rest of the house had been dark and moody in color, the kitchen was so bright it almost felt sterile. Black and white checked tile ran the length of the room, the stark, white stone countertops bouncing the light back onto the stainless steel fronts of the cabinets.
I blinked, the questions I had about haunted dolls, the other alpha’s bedrooms, and pregnancy contracts tying into a jumbled mess that I pushed aside in favor of the far more pressing, “Is this where you commit your murders?”
Indigo laughed, grabbing us each a soda from the fridge. “Not unless you want Marcus to throw a fit.”
“It's so… bright in here,” I pointed out, the confusion evident in my tone. “Modern.”
“Yeah,” Indi grumbled. “Marcus was pretty insistent on having an industrial-style kitchen. It really ruins the vibe.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Of all the passions I’d expected from Indigo, interior decorating wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. “It does look very…” I paused, hunting for a word that wasn’t ‘murdery’ as Indigo handed me a cold can, “Uh, clean.”
The conversation made me think, not for the first time, about the member of the pack I hadn’t seen since Halloween. Marcus might’ve been the first of the Lombardi pack to touch me, but he’d been just out of my reach ever since.
Does he think about me? Does he know about Cameo’s offer?
“It does look a little too clean, doesn’t it?
” Joon mused, walking over to the fridge and smacking the unmarked stainless steel front, startling me with the noise.
He dragged his palm down, creating a large streak on the front of the appliance with a grin.
“And for good measure,” he said, before going to the counter and swapping the knife block with the utensil jar. “That’s so much better.”
I laughed. “Why are you doing that?”
“Because he’s a brat,” Marcus said, making Joon almost jump out of his skin.
At the Packtacular, in the thrill of the moment and with heat making everything fuzzy, it was hard to keep track of who was who, but now I wasn’t sure how that’d even been an issue.
Marcus was big. Sure, most alphas were, but not like him. I practically had to look directly up to see his face, and his chest was so wide it looked like his shirt was bound to split at the seams any minute.
Mental note: add in-game emote of werewolf tearing their shirt off.
The alpha’s gaze flicked to mine, and I looked away, realizing I’d been caught staring.
Joon huffed, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. “Am not.”
“And the sky is purple,” Marcus said gruffly. “I wasn’t aware we had a guest.”
“‘Um, yeah. Hi Marcus,” I said shyly, earning what I was sure was the whisper of a smile.
“What are you doing home so early?” Indigo asked, sticking Joon’s drink between his crossed arms and making the omega shiver.
He lifted a brow, as if the answer were so obvious it shouldn’t need to be spoken. “It’s Sunday, I’m home to make dinner.”
Oh right.
I shifted on my feet, feeling like I was interrupting something important. If Cameo expected Sunday night to be pack time, I really shouldn’t be here intruding.
“Eva is joining us,” Indi said, drawing my eye to the alpha, who grinned in my direction.
How did they do that? Read me like a book?
“Are you making eggplant parmesan?” Joon asked, a decidedly hopeful note in the omega’s voice.
“No, I made that last week.”
“But it’s my favorite,” he shot back with a definitive pout.
“And you can’t eat it every week,” Marcus replied, setting a large paper bag of groceries onto the countertop with a crinkle.
“Says who?”
“The person who doesn’t want to make it again.”
My eyes bounced back and forth, watching them volley seamlessly. I couldn’t tell who was winning the argument, or if it even mattered, but the pace was really starting to pick up now.
“Entertaining, right?” Indi said quietly into my ear.
“Very,” I agreed, shooting them a smile. “Is it like this all the time?”
“Are you saying there’s something wrong with eggplant parmesan?” Joon asked, their voice rising.
Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is that what I said?”
“Well, you said you wouldn’t make it!”
“Because we had it last week!”
“C’mon.” Indi chuckled, their hand finding the small of my back. “They could be at this for hours, and I want to talk to you.”
I giggled, letting the alpha lead me from the kitchen and downstairs to the basement, into what looked like a real pack room.
The space had a conversation pit in the middle, sunken into the floor a couple of feet, with a border that acted as a walkway around the perimeter.
Ornate bookshelves covered the walls, except for the gaps left by the historical windows and blank wall of the far side, set up as a screen for a projector hanging from the ceiling.
A saturated plum-colored sectional circled the inside of the pit, so deep I was pretty sure my feet wouldn't touch the floor if I sat all the way back against the cushions.
Beyond cozy.
I wanted to jump into the middle of it all, throw on a spooky movie, and die here where I didn’t have to worry about replacing my car. Or, I don’t know, moving.
Could you break your lease because your apartment was scary for no reason? Probably not.
Maybe I should just get a dog.
“We hang in here mostly,” Indi explained, grabbing a remote to turn on the projector and dropping onto the sofa. “I figured we’d wait them out down here, watch a movie or something."
"What about Sunday dinner?" I asked, standing a little awkwardly at the top of the few steps leading down.
“It won’t be for a while,” they assured. “You’re welcome to stay, but I’ll warn you, it’s always chaos.”
“I’ll think about it.”
The idea of intruding didn’t sit right with me, especially since I already felt guilty about being such a chicken that I needed to ask a big, strong alpha to come get me in the first place.
But… I kind of wanted to see what it was like, too.
I stood for a moment, grinning at each other like a couple of nervous kids at a school dance.