Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
It’s nearly midnight, and I’ve been sitting cross-legged on my couch, just staring at my phone, for half an hour. I got home, changed into pj’s and brushed my teeth, decided I was too wound up to sleep just yet, and… that’s it.
I really want to call Alistair. He’s my best friend, and this is a huge development in my life. But… it’s late. And this is supposed to be kept quiet.
And what if it changes how he sees me?
I hate myself for even thinking it, for doubting Alistair’s friendship and integrity like that, but… the little voice at the back of my head is persistent. Plus, I’ve heard Alistair gripe about cats a million times. There’s somewhat of a rivalry amongst shifters.
Ugh. This is ridiculous. Alistair has high-level security clearance and he’s my best friend . If he finds out about this later from someone else, he’s going to be hurt.
I hit the call button and lift my phone to my ear. It only rings twice before a sleepy voice growls, “What’s wrong?”
I open my mouth to say, “Nothing,” but the word gets stuck in my throat.
“Sam?” He sounds more alert now. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I manage, because I am. Mostly. “Uh, you’re not going to believe this.” Should I tell him to come over? It’s really an in-person kind of conversation, but it’s late. We both have work tomorrow.
“Not going to believe what? Are you still at the office?”
“No, no. I’m home. So, tonight David tried to teach me how—hey, how come you never told me humans could do magic?”
Silence. I can almost see him blinking as he tries to process that.
“I never thought about it,” he says finally. “Most humans don’t bother to learn, so I only sometimes remember that you can.”
“I can’t,” I inform him. “David tried to teach me how tonight, and it didn’t work. To cut a long story short, Percy used the magic to check why, and it turns out I’m not human.”
The silence this time is longer. I wait him out.
“Have you been drinking?” he asks finally. “Did someone slip you some brew?”
“No.” I bite back a laugh. This is fun.
“The lucifer used magic to check why you couldn’t do human magic and it’s because you’re not human?” he summarizes.
“That’s right.”
“Okay. Sure. I’ll bite. What are you then?” There’s heavy sarcasm in his voice.
“Felid shifter.”
There’s no silence this time; instead, he yowls, a sound of pain.
“Alistair? You okay?”
“Yeah,” he grumbles. “I thought you said you were a felid, and I stubbed my toe on the doorframe.”
I snicker. “Seriously? You can’t walk and talk at the same time?”
“Not when it’s dark and you’re saying stupid shit.”
I wince. “It’s not stupid shit, Al. And aren’t you supposed to be able to see well in the dark?”
“My eyes are mostly closed because it’s late and I was asleep. Wait… what are you talking about? Are you serious ?”
“Alistair, I swear, everything I’ve said is completely true. I didn’t wake you up just to play a joke.”
There’s a crash in my ear, and then distant swearing. I wait, and a second later Alistair’s saying, “Sam? Sorry, dropped the phone. You’re… you’re a cat ? I thought you were human! You smell like a human. How are you not human? Fuck, I need to sit down.”
“It’s the weirdest story, Al. And it’s classified, so keep it to yourself.” I give him a quick rundown of everything that’s happened tonight. Surprisingly, he only interrupts to ask questions four times. When I’m done, he sighs.
“Wow. I can’t believe you’re a fucking cat.”
I knew he’d get stuck on that. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on?”
“It’s important,” he whines. “When they turn off the human part, you’re going to smell like a cat.”
“Turn off the human part?” I ask incredulously.
“You know what I mean.” He sighs again. “Well, fuck. I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.” He pauses. “How are you? Freaked out?”
“Yeah, a little. I mean… I’m a shifter. This is so weird.”
“Want me to come over?” I hear movement. “I’m coming over.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. We both have work tomorrow.
” That’s weak, and I know it. Truth is, I don’t really want to be alone with my thoughts right now.
I haven’t talked about my parents—foster parents—to anyone, ever, before tonight.
I don’t even think about them if I don’t have to.
But I feel bad dragging Alistair out in the middle of the night to, what? Hold my hand?
Someone knocks on my front door.
I glance at the clock. It’s after midnight. I’m definitely not expecting anyone. Fuck me, what if it’s the cultists? What if they’ve finally tracked me down after all these years and come to take me back?
“Al, there’s someone at the door,” I whisper.
“Now? Don’t open it,” he demands. “I’m on my way. Go lock yourself in the bathroom.”
A laugh bursts from me. I can’t help it—the thought of cowering in the bathroom, waiting for Alistair to come and rescue me from what’s most likely a neighbor with a problem, is just that ridiculous. “Let me check the peephole before we both overreact,” I suggest dryly.
Gotta admit, though, I tiptoe over to the door and hold my breath as I peer through the peephole, as though whoever is on the other side will hear me breathing and… I don’t even know what they’d do if they heard me breathing. Knock again?
“Oh.” The surprise is clear in my voice.
“Who is it?” Alistair asks. The aggressive note is gone; he must realize it’s not anybody to worry about.
“Gideon,” I say, sliding back the chain and undoing the bolt.
“Gideon? Who’s— Gideon Bailey ?”
“Yes.” I turn the key in the lock and open the door.
“What the fuck is Gideon Bailey doing at your place at this time of night?” my best friend demands loudly.
Very loudly.
From the twitch of Gideon’s lips, loudly enough for him to have heard.
“Hi, Gideon. Everything okay?” I lean against the doorjamb, trying to be casual.
He eyes me. I instantly feel like an idiot.
It doesn’t help that this is the moment when I remember that my pajama pants have a rip in the thigh, right near my groin, and the T-shirt I’m wearing with them is bleach stained.
My professional image suffers a huge blow, and I sigh, straighten, and step back. “Come on in.”
In my ear, Alistair says, “Sam, what’s going on?”
As Gideon steps past me into my living room, I tell Alistair, “It’s all good here.
I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Tomorrow, the day of reckoning.
“Um…” I bite my lip and look at Gideon’s back.
“Hang on.” Pulling the phone away from my face and covering the microphone, I say, “Gideon, do you think it would be okay if Alistair is there tomorrow? When Percy and David are trying to reverse the sorcery weaves, I mean?”
Don’t get me wrong, I like my new team. They’ve been great. But for a life-changing—literally—experience, I want Alistair there.
Gideon seems to consider it. “Yeah. They might have to ask him to leave if your cat reacts badly, but they’ll probably kick most of us out if that happens, so…” He shrugs.
“Thanks.” My smile feels shaky. Fuck. What if my cat reacts badly?
Nope. Not thinking about that now. I lift the phone back to my ear. “Hey, Al, can you make some time to be there tomorrow when they turn off the human part?”
Gideon makes a sound that might be a laugh, but I steadfastly don’t look at him.
“Of course,” Alistair says immediately. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”
Something in me settles. “Nah, you don’t need to do that,” I assure him. “I’ve got other stuff to do first anyway. I’ll let you know when we’re… ready.”
“Sure?” He sounds dubious.
“Positive. Go back to bed, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks, Alistair.”
“And you’re sure you’re okay with the demon there? You never said, what’s Gideon Bailey doing there?”
“I’ll find out in a second, won’t I? Good night.”
“Good night, cat. I can’t believe you’re a cat,” he mutters, and then the line goes dead on my chuckle.
I toss the phone onto the couch and turn to see where Gideon’s got to. I’m not really surprised to see him in my tiny kitchen, moving some things around in my pantry. I’ve seen him reorganizing everyone’s desk at the office about a million times over the past couple months.
I wince.
“Yeah, sorry, I might not have put everything back exactly where you arranged it after I used it.” I’m not exactly a keep-the-pantry-organized kind of person.
“Better that way,” he says without turning around. “Gives me something to do.”
I hover near the peninsula counter that separates the kitchen from the living room, then finally just sit on one of the barstools.
He’s obviously not going to tell me why he’s here until he’s sorted through whatever problem is clogging his brain.
Fuck knows, he’s probably got a shit-ton to think about.
There’s something oddly soothing about watching Gideon rearrange my pantry. I find myself being lulled by his movements, and soon I rest my head on my arms on the counter. My eyelids feel so heavy. I’ll just let myself drowse for a few minutes until Gideon’s finished.
Next thing I know, the world is flipping upside down. I open my eyes and find myself staring at a very nice ass.
What an amazing way to wake up.
Wait… I know that ass. I’ve been admiring it for weeks.
Covertly, of course.
“Gideon?” I mumble sleepily, wondering if I’m actually awake or just having a fabulous dream. “What are you doing?”
In other words, why am I draped over his shoulder?
“I didn’t want to wake you, so I’m carrying you to bed.” I feel his voice rumble through every inch of me that’s touching him.
“Oh. Okay.” I like this. This is good. If it is a dream, I’m just going to enjoy it.
I’m flipping again, and then the soft but firm feel of my mattress is under me. Do I care that he now knows I don’t make my bed? Not really.
I snuggle under the covers and let my eyes close. “Thanks,” I mumble.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, and the warm, amused tone almost makes me want to open my eyes again and see if he’s actually smiling, but I’m too sleepy.