Chapter 17 #2
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to interact with Caleb in this form, and after a moment’s hesitation, I touch his torso. His fur is coarse, and his ribcage expands as he draws in breath. He’s so fucking muscular.
A low hum pours from his throat as I trail my hand down his spine, essentially petting him. The shifters don’t enjoy being likened to dogs, but it’s hard not to draw comparisons. They’re both four-legged, furry creatures with slightly pointed ears and fluffy tails.
When I reach for Caleb’s tail, he flicks it away with a quiet grumble.
“No touching the tail,” I say. “Got it.”
I take another minute evaluating him. He has no visible weakness. He has the body of a predator, but the intelligence of a human. It’s an intimidating combination.
I crouch, peering between his thighs. He remains still, allowing me to eye his penis. It’s transformed with the rest of him, and I can’t help but grimace. Not only is it too large to reasonably take, but it’s covered in fur and, honestly, pretty ugly.
“I’m relieved you have no interest in having sex in this form.”
Caleb makes an odd, gasping choking sound that I’m pretty sure is a laugh. Then he wiggles his head against my crotch. I shove him away, painfully aware that I’m still wearing the underwear he put on me last night. I must reek of him.
“Fuck off, Caleb,” I hiss.
He makes that gasping, choking sound again.
I straighten up and circle him, slowly growing comfortable. This is far from an HPAW-level evaluation, but it’s the best I can do at this time. I lift each of Caleb’s limbs, testing his range of motion and feeling his musculature. If I had to guess, I’d say he weighs almost five hundred pounds.
I touch his ears, running them between my thumb and pointer finger. They’re softer than I expected.
Caleb seems happy with my exploration. His quiet humming turns into a straight purr the more I touch him.
“I like your purring,” I admit.
The purring stops. I snort. “Sorry, I forgot. You call it a murmur.”
I shift my focus to his head. He fights me as I try to pry open his jaw. Despite him being unable to talk in this form, his narrowed eyes and tense jaw tell me everything he wants to say. I ignore him, continuing to pull at his mouth until he gives in and opens up.
His teeth are sharp, and his canines are as long as my pointer finger. He’s a born killer.
“How many humans have you killed?” I ask.
I regret the question the second it slips from my lips.
Caleb goes still, his body tightening before he pulls his jaw from my grasp and slinks back outside.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m not sure why I did.
Maybe it’s because I’m desperate for Caleb to tell me the truth.
I want him to take the initiative to tell me about the humans he murdered. I want to know about the shipment.
I want it to be a misunderstanding. I need him to prove that HPAW is wrong about him and his people.
Caleb shifts into his skin form. He openly stares at me as he tugs his clothing back on, and I take this moment to collect myself. Is this it? Is he going to tell me the truth? I’ve given him the perfect opportunity. I want him to take it.
My heart pounds as he enters the house.
“Why’d you ask me that?” He’s quick to the point.
I swallow. “I don’t know. You have killed humans, haven’t you?”
Caleb closes the distance between us. It’s impossible to read his expression, but he doesn’t seem angry as he nudges my chin, urging me to look up.
“Yes, I have.”
“How many? Who? When was the last time?”
Caleb cups my cheeks with both hands, burying his fingers in my hair and brushing his thumbs across my cheekbones. I recognize the relief that flashes in his eyes. He was expecting me to panic, to look at him differently.
“This isn’t something you should concern yourself with.”
I frown, the disappointment crushing. “Caleb…”
“We should get going,” he says, changing the subject. “We’re running late, and I have early meetings today.”
“But—”
“I’m not discussing this with you, Evelyn.”
He’s not going to tell me. I shouldn’t be as hurt as I am.
“I’d like to stay home today,” I say. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I should rest.” When I can tell Caleb’s about to argue, to insist I can relax on his office couch, I continue. “I slept on my ribs wrong, and they’re hurting.”
My ribs feel fine. They occasionally ache if I move in just the right way or if I overexert myself, but most of the time, I forget they were ever injured. Doctor Greg says I’m healing splendidly.
“Of course,” Caleb says, giving in. “You should rest.”
I’ve made up my mind. I gave Caleb the opportunity to tell me the truth, and he chose not to. I can no longer put this off. I’ll use today to prepare, to find and hide a weapon he isn’t going to notice is missing. This is happening.
I jump into action the second Caleb’s out the door.
My lips tingle from the curt goodbye kiss he gave me, and I resist the urge to touch them as I head into the kitchen in search of a knife. I have to slit his throat while he’s sleeping. It’s the only way to successfully kill him.
Caleb does a fair bit of cooking, and I fear he keeps a close tab on his knives. I don’t know if he suspects me of anything, but if he does, he’ll undoubtedly notice if one is missing.
I hum a children’s lullaby. I have faint memories of my mother singing it, but I don’t recall most of the words. I don’t have many memories of my parents, just a few flashes. The song is a good distraction, just enough to keep my mind from running.
I don’t want to think too deeply about what I’m doing.
How much does Caleb suspect? Surely, more than he lets on.
He’s never outright asked about my lies, but I know he’s picked up on a few of them.
Caleb trusts me, or at least pretends to, but he’s no fool.
The more time we spend together, the more I’ve come to realize that.
He’s smarter than I gave him credit for.
It’s only a matter of time before he sees through me fully.
I pull open the kitchen drawers, searching for a forgotten, unused knife. Even a switchblade will work. I have high hopes for the junk drawer, but there’s nothing more than a few batteries and a tiny pocketknife.
I flick it open, but I already know it won’t work.
Caleb is fast, and I won’t have time to hack away at him with a tiny blade. I don’t particularly want to, either. I want this to be a one-and-done, so I’ll need a blade that is both large and sharp enough to cut his jugular.
I scan every nook and cranny of the first level of Caleb’s home, but I find nothing of use. I’m not as disappointed in that as I should be, and I tug my hair out of my face as I head upstairs and into the spare bedroom Caleb uses as a home office.
The walls are bare, and a wooden desk and an uncomfortable-looking office chair sit in the center of the room. I peek inside the desk drawers. Empty. I try the filing cabinets next. They aren’t locked, but they’re also empty. Just my fucking luck.
The rest of my search is just as useless.
I don’t even find an extra pair of scissors, and Caleb would surely notice if the main kitchen ones went missing.
I’ll have to use one of the nice kitchen knives, but I’ll have to sneak it the same day I plan to kill him.
Am I really going to do this? Yes. I inspect his knives, eventually picking out the one I’ll use.
I replay the memory of Caleb spitting in that human boy’s face before breaking his neck. He executed five humans without a moment’s hesitation, then returned to me as if nothing had happened. There was no remorse, no regret. Nothing.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he actively enjoyed killing those men. If he can do it, I can do it, too.
I check the time, shocked to see several hours have passed. I was thorough in my search, and I’m sure I left my scent in every corner of the house. Caleb will smell it, but I don’t think he’ll say anything. He’s caught me looking through his things before, and he doesn’t seem to mind.
I finally meander to the bathroom to clean up, scrubbing the dried cum off myself before changing into a fresh pair of underwear. I begin planning my escape route as I do so.
HPAW had me memorize a historical map of Canada. It’s important that I know the road system, but it’s been weeks since I last saw a map. My memory is fuzzy, but I estimate it’ll be about a six-hour drive. It was several to the cabin, and Caleb’s pack is even further in.
I’ll need to stop for gas within the shifter lands, which isn’t ideal. The stations are long abandoned, and I doubt many of them still have gas in their underground tanks.
If I make a wrong turn and end up stranded, I’m as good as dead. The wolves will come after me once they realize their alpha is dead, and I doubt they’ll be forgiving.
Caleb returns home while the sun is still out. “You’re home early,” I say from the kitchen.
He steps into the room with a laugh. “Eager to be rid of me?”
He’s so fucking beautiful, and I find myself momentarily forgetting how to breathe as he pulls me into his arms. I replay the mental image of him spitting on and killing that boy. It has become an effective way for me to manage my emotions.
“How was your day?” I ask, pulling out of his arms.
“Boring.” He clears his throat. “Sash and Logan invited us to a small get-together tonight. It’s a last-minute thing. Would you like to go?”
Not really. “Do you want to go?” I ask, avoiding answering.
Caleb shrugs. “Yes. Wolves are social creatures, y’know?” Caleb shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Grace will probably be there, though.”
Wonderful.
I’m not upset about that anymore. Jealousy burned through me like wildfire the first few days after discovering Caleb’s particular relationship with the woman, but it’s since settled.
I don’t blame Caleb for choosing her, nor do I blame her for accepting.
It’s not like I have much room to be jealous, either.
I have a long, intimate history with men.
If I were serious about my relationship with Caleb, I’d want to go. I’d want to get to know the members of his pack. I haven’t made much of an effort to do so these past several weeks, but it was easy to blame my injuries. But I’m feeling better than ever now, and Caleb knows that.
I resist the urge to sigh. “I’d love to go,” I lie. “It would be nice to get to know Sash and Logan better.”
Caleb’s responding smile is breathtaking. It’s a shame everything I say is a lie.