Chapter Thirty-Five
Emerson
“Hey.” Nick raps on my door, then sticks his head into my room. He’s wearing a shirt and tie on his top half, but pyjama bottoms and slippers beyond that. “I’m going down for lunch. Want anything?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He nods and smiles, but there is no missing the concern that flits over his face. I sigh once I hear he’s downstairs.
It’s been two days since I discovered… everything. That werewolves exist. That Patch is one.
Two days since I ruined everything.
No one has been by to check if I’ve stayed inside, even though I have.
I don’t even dare to go into the back garden.
No one has been by to tell me to leave, either, which I’m honestly glad for the breathing room.
Cate is desperate to come here, but I’ve asked her to wait until the weekend.
If I still can’t leave then, for whatever reason, at least we can get some of my stuff out of here.
Jamie is out all day at work. Nick works from home, but while he’s working, he only bothers me once or twice, so I have plenty of time to think.
I sigh now, still staring up at the ceiling. I hauled myself up this morning and got dressed, only to return to bed and stare at nothing. Did I do the wrong thing by coming here? No. I don’t think so. I don’t think chasing the idea of magic is wrong; I can’t believe that.
And it’s not as if… I pluck at the duvet with restless fingers.
It’s not as if I was certain I’d find anything before this job.
I’ve come across angry ducks and herds of nervous cows and multiple groups of teenagers out drinking and smoking weed in the woods, but never a werewolf. Never actual magic.
I poke at the strange feeling in my chest. Now I’m sad. Guilty.
Disappointed.
Disappointed in myself. I know I’m the only one to blame for what happened.
Patch chose to show himself to me, and that was his choice, but he couldn’t have known I was livestreaming the entire thing.
Kieran couldn’t have known about my social media accounts—I don’t show my face for a reason. No, I caused all the trouble.
But I’m disappointed in what I’ve found, too.
People scared of other people, and even if it makes sense, it’s just—I roll onto my side, eyes burning.
The world feels so small again. It felt bigger before.
When Patch and Jamie were here, it felt like I’d never be done marvelling at the vastness of it.
My phone rings and I sniffle, setting my glasses back in place as I sit up. Cate’s name flashes up on the screen. I’m unsurprised. She might not be coming down until the weekend, having decided she doesn’t care what Kieran has to say about that at all, but she’s called every day to check in on me.
“Hey,” I answer. “Everything good at work?”
“Not exactly.” She sounds tense, and I sit up straighter. “Someone came here asking for you.”
“Someone?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t let him in—not like you work here. But Rose was on reception—you’ve met her, remember—so she came to let me know.”
“What did they want?”
“Just said they were looking for you. Some concern about your welfare. She said they showed her ID, but they weren’t police or anything like that.”
My stomach drops. Who could this be, on top of everything else? Can’t be the packs—they know I’m still here.
“They didn’t ask after you at all?”
“No,” Cate says. “And I’m going to be careful. I’ll leave with Rose tonight, and the bus stop is only a couple of minutes from the house. What’s the last address you registered?”
“Not yours. I think… God, I don’t know. I barely get post anymore.”
“Okay, okay. Is everything locked up there?”
“They can’t actually be after me.”
“Em. Seriously. You got a sketchy-as-fuck email that lured you down to London and after you do what they asked, someone’s come around looking for you?”
“Yeah, but—Wouldn’t they know I’m here?”
“Not if they assume you got booted out of the city.” She sighs. “Just be careful, okay? I’m heading down first thing on Saturday. Derek said I could borrow his car, so we can put all your shit in the back.”
My heart sinks. I’m really doing it. I’m hoping by Saturday, they won’t care that I’m gone.
“You’re listed as my next of kin,” I say. “My emergency contact, whatever. If anything happens…”
“Fuck, Em. You’re not going anywhere. Tell your housemates what’s going on.”
“Yeah, I will.”
The silence is charged. “Em, if you don’t tell them, I will. You think I can’t find a phone number?”
“Fuck, all right. I will.”
“Good. I’ll ring you tonight when I get in.”
“Talk to you then.”
Cate says bye and hangs up, and when I glance up, Nick is in the doorway again. He raises his eyebrows at my frown and extends a plate in my direction. It has a sandwich on it. My stomach growls.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“Cate said someone came to her work looking for me.” I take the proffered plate. “Thanks.”
Nick shrugs, but his gaze never wavers. “Dangerous or not?”
“I don’t know. Said they were doing a welfare check.”
“Hm.” He takes a bite of his own sandwich and stares thoughtfully into the distance as he chews. “Least we’ve got some experience with this. Tell Jamie when he gets in. I’ll go make sure everything’s locked up.”
“I—” Nick wanders off. “Okay.”
Surely, I can’t be bringing more trouble here? They’re going to be glad to see the back of me when I leave.
Jamie looks vaguely panicked when I explain what happened that evening, but he overcomes it quickly and pulls out his phone. Nick nods. “Calling Kieran?”
“No,” Jamie says. “I’m texting Patch.”
I reach out and grab his hand before I can think twice about it. “Why… Why would you do that?”
“He needs to know.”
“No, he doesn’t!”
Jamie frowns at me. He’s got that familiar stubborn set to his mouth. “Of course he does. Wouldn’t you want to know if—” He cuts himself off. Nick sighs and gets to his feet.
“I’m going to make a cup of tea.”
“What’s going on?” I ask. “What am I missing?”
“Do you really want me to tell you?”
“I’m leaving on Saturday, so…” I trail off when Jamie’s face falls. “You knew I was going to. You know I have to.”
“Kieran hasn’t said you can yet. Felix’s video is working, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” I saw it before I deleted my account. Had to. The messages I received—am still receiving because I haven’t closed down the email account yet, and I don’t plan to do that until I know the packs have the identity of the person who sent me down here—were… a lot. Angry. Hateful, almost.
“You might be able to stay.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head. “You’re friends with all of them, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but…”
“They’re not going to forgive me, Jamie. They shouldn’t. I endangered everyone, and Axel was right. I did it for money.”
“You did it because you wanted to know.”
“If I’d only wanted to know, I wouldn’t have had the camera,” I say. That’s been a fun realisation to come to—that not only can I be bought, but the price is far lower than I ever imagined. “I’m going back home. It’s only been a few weeks. It’ll be okay.”
Jamie crosses his arms over his chest. He scowls but says nothing.
“So you might as well just tell me. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than everything else going on this week.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No. It’s not… It’s better you don’t know. If you’re not going to stay.”
“Jamie.”
“No.”
He gets to his feet and heads into the kitchen.
I sag back on the sofa. The urge to cry almost overwhelms me, but I suck in a quick breath and force the tears back.
Maybe this is for the best. It wasn’t even that we didn’t know each other.
We’ve all been keeping secrets. They might have been kept for good reasons, but what kind of basis for a relationship is that?
Nick comes back into the living room and hands me a mug. “He’ll be back through in a minute.” His gaze sharpens. “Pretty sure he can’t stay away.”
I snort. Well, that’s just not true at all, is it?