Heath
Recent events had him distracted and preoccupied. His sister and her mates repeatedly made efforts to pull him into the conversation, with minimal success.
Yearning to confess made it more difficult to resist. Having to keep his mouth shut was incredibly difficult. Nadine, Brady, and Roger would be thrilled for him, and want to meet his mate.
He wanted to share the wonderful news that he was bonded, but hadn’t discussed that with Clarke. It wasn’t his place to reveal her secrets without her permission and approval.
“Clarke worried about my reaction. It will be the same with you. You have eighteen hours to get comfortable with the concept,” Jace said in what was more an order than a suggestion.
Heath chuckled, knowing that Jace was giving him the heads up, and time to come to terms with that reality for Clarke’s sake rather than his. But that was as it should be. Jace wouldn’t tolerate Heath upsetting her.
“Don’t worry about me, 007. I had already guessed that Clarke would have at least three mates.
Her physical power is ranked at nine-point-seven.
Having her first vision at the age of six, especially considering how it was prompted, indicates that Clarke’s psychic ability could be even stronger,” Heath said.
As far as he was aware, ninety-five percent of evolved humans with an ability that was ranked at ten or higher had a minimum of two mates. And that was for individuals with only one power. Since Clarke had two, it was practically a guarantee that she would have three mates.
“Good,” Jace said, and hung up without another word.
The irascible shifter had clearly exhausted his tolerance for dialogue with anyone other than Clarke. Laughing, Heath set his phone down, and went back to hanging drywall.
On Sunday, Heath found himself anticipating having company. With his house being an ongoing construction project, he rarely had people over. He was accustomed to being alone, with Rascal his only companion.
On the rare occasion that someone popped by unannounced, Heath tended to be annoyed, and keep the visit short. Rather than feeling invaded Friday night, though, Heath had enjoyed having Clarke and Jace in his space. It felt natural.
After harvesting herbs and vegetables from the garden with Rascal’s dubious assistance, he made a salad, and put it in the refrigerator to chill.
Then Heath went foraging for wildflowers, returning with a large bouquet in a profusion of colors.
Frowning when he realized that he didn’t own a vase, Heath put the flowers in a blown-glass pitcher. It would have to do.
He had decided to broil pork chops for lunch. Grilling them might be tastier, but Heath wanted Clarke to have the freedom of leaving the masculinity charm off for as long as possible. She might feel the need to wear it if they cooked and ate outside.
Heath ground black pepper, fresh tarragon, and fennel into a bowl with a few drops of water, and mixed it into a paste.
He rubbed it into the chops so they would absorb the flavor.
Then he placed them in a container, and put it in the refrigerator.
He enjoyed cooking, but didn’t often bother unless he had other people to feed.
Satisfied that they would have a nice lunch, Heath wondered if he should change his clothes. He was wearing an old pair of jeans and a plain, long-sleeved t-shirt. This was his first official, scheduled meal with his mate. That was special.
On the other hand, it wasn’t really a date. Jace would be here, and he was probably allergic to dress clothes. They were meeting at Heath’s house, not a restaurant.
The primary goal was to work with Clarke’s power, and learn the most efficient ways to utilize it. Her priority was finding Charlie. Heath would never hinder or subvert that.
Yeah, dressing up would come off as fussy and inappropriate. It could even give the impression that he was trying to outclass Jace. There should be solidarity among bond brothers.
Heath chose to compromise by changing into newer jeans, and putting on cologne. Now he was casual, but presentable. The sound of a car pulling into the drive forced him to stop second-guessing his apparel choices.
Striding into the entryway, Heath opened the door for Jace and Clarke. The latter carried three cloth grocery sacks. They were also dressed casually, causing Heath to relax.
“This is a beautiful house, Heath. I should have mentioned that Friday night,” Clarke said with a glance at the beige stone tile that carried into the kitchen.
“Thanks, it’s a fixer-upper, and a work in progress,” he said honestly, placing a hand briefly on her shoulder. “You’ve only seen the finished rooms.” Heath wanted to touch her, but a hug might seem invasive.
“Well, what I have seen is tasteful, homey, and appealing,” Clarke said. “It’s lovely.”
Jace walked into the kitchen, and placed the bags on the quartz counters. Heath followed, and lifted the makeshift vase.
“These are for you,” he said to Clarke. “I know you can’t take them home, and I didn’t feel like I could go to a florist. But bonding should be celebrated. It’s special.”
“Oh, Heath! You picked these yourself?” Clarke asked, sounding astonished and emotional. “They are so beautiful, and you made me feel like a woman. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Heath said as he set the pitcher back on the counter.
Clarke hurried over to hug him. He held her tight for a moment before she pulled away to smell and touch each flower with appreciation. Clarke didn’t seem to care that they were wildflowers without a fancy vase.
She discarded the charm bracelet as she moved, dropping it on the counter. Jace gave Heath a nod of approval before turning to watch their mate with adoring eyes. Those flowers had eroded the awkwardness and uncertainty of how to navigate this new dynamic.
It still astounded Heath to see her without the charm. Everything about Clarke was so feminine, from the subtle sway of her hips as she walked, to her smile, and the delicate bone structure of her face. That was one powerful trinket.
After admiring the bouquet, Clarke stood back with her phone raised, and took several photos. Seeing how much it meant to her had Heath feeling like a hero. He was very grateful that he’d thought of it.
Heath started digging through the bags, and putting things away. He opened the container to see what was in it, then closed it.
“Potato salad will be perfect with the pork chops and green salad,” he said.
“It goes with everything. We should probably get started,” Clarke said. “Where do you want to do this?”
“The living room should be comfortable,” Heath said. “I got a sketch pad and pencils for you, and put them on the coffee table.”
“That sounds good,” Clarke agreed, and began walking in that direction. Rascal trotted next to her, then jumped up to one of the chairs.
“We can bring the flowers there, so you can see them,” Jace offered.
“You’d better not,” Clarke said. “I would keep looking at them, and might not be able to concentrate on the questions.”
If he was a cat, Heath would be purring loudly right now. He’d made his mate happy, and was proud to have done so.
Clarke and Jace sat on the couch. Heath took a chair facing them. He handed Jace a notebook with questions written down, and a pen to record the answers they would hopefully get.
“I don’t want Clarke looking at the questions,” Heath said. “That could distract her from the meditation. 007, you can sit close, but maybe turn so you’re facing her side.”
“Ok,” Jace replied, and moved until his back was to the armrest.
“Clarke, if you agree, I’d like to cast a tranquility spell,” Heath said. “It should induce calm, and make it easier for you to clear your mind.”
“Please do. I’ll take any help I can get,” she said.
A flex of his forearm released the wand into Heath’s right hand. With a wordless incantation, he cast the spell. Clarke’s shoulders relaxed, and she sank into the couch cushions.
“Oh, that’s heavenly,” Clarke said softly. “I feel boneless.”
“Good. Now close your eyes, and picture ocean waves lapping gently against a white, sandy beach,” Heath said in a soothing tone. He described a sunset over the water, with a sailboat in the distance, and driftwood on the shore. After a few minutes, he nodded to Jace.
Mimicking Heath’s tone, Jace asked, “Is Russell Bridges, the assistant librarian at Mars College, trustworthy?”
Clarke’s hand moved immediately, and the pencil scratched on the paper. Jace and Heath shared a victorious look. This could be a game-changer.
After glancing at the paper, Jace nodded that the answer was yes. He continued asking questions, making notations next to each one. Heath had set a timer for twenty minutes, and Jace stopped his inquiries when it went off.
Clarke often stayed in a trance for at least an hour. They were experimenting with an aspect of her power that hadn’t been previously explored, however. Neither Heath nor Jace knew if answering a variety of questions would put a strain on her, and they weren’t about to risk it.
Heath led Clarke out of the meditative trance, then lifted the tranquility spell. Clarke blinked owlishly, and stretched.
“That was amazing. I feel like I just had a power nap,” she said around a yawn. Clarke glanced at the sketch pad, seeing dozens of yeses and noes scrawled on the paper. “It worked?”
“It did,” Jace said with pride. “According to your power, Russell is trustworthy, and had no involvement in what happened to Charlie, Dr. Prentis, or the students. He’ll be a strong ally who will guard your secrets, and help us.”
“Good to know,” Clarke said happily. “I really like Russell, and think we’ll become friends. When I have my shift in the library tomorrow, I’ll tell him that I want to talk somewhere in private.”
“Unless you prefer to do this alone, Russell can meet us here,” Heath volunteered.
They should have that conversation off campus, and a public venue wouldn’t be wise. Since Russell had pursued him for months, Heath wasn’t entirely comfortable with the thought of having him over. But this was about her, not him, and Clarke and Jace would both be here.
“That would be perfect, actually,” Clarke said. “I was wracking my brain for a place we couldn’t be overheard.”
“It’s settled, then,” Heath said.