Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. I’m in my bedroom—I can see my dresser from the corner of my eye. But I’m not exactly sure how I got here. Fuck, please don’t tell me I got drunk again.
My head still feels a bit fuzzy from sleep, so I take my time and run through what I can remember. I shifted—I’m a cat! Then I shifted back. We were talking about monitoring my next shift… Dr. Sims wanted to take more samples… and I freaked out.
Wow. What was wrong with me? I went totally conspiracy theorist. I can clearly remember everything I was thinking, and none of it makes any sense. It’s like I really believed everyone was out to get me.
The last bit’s a little unclear, kind of soft focus.
Andrew must have been using his charisma on me—there’s no other reason I would have gone from completely paranoid to wanting to curl up in Andrew’s lap like a puppy.
I’m not thrilled about it, but I can see why he had to do it—I was fully prepared to assault someone to “escape.”
“You’re awake.”
I prop myself up slowly, letting my head adjust to the movement, and look at Gideon leaning against the doorframe. “Hey. Uh, how long have I been out?”
He straightens and comes into the room. “Just a couple of hours. Dr. Sims gave you a mild sedative, just enough for us to get you home and settled.” He takes my wrist and puts his fingers to my pulse.
“I feel fine,” I say, trying not to wince as I remember how I clung to him like a monkey does a tree. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on with us—barely civil colleagues, friends, something more?—but I am sure that was embarrassing. “Uh, listen, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be,” he says. “Nobody blames you. A compelled shift brings out some weird behavior. Alistair and Aidan warned you beforehand, remember?”
I huff a laugh. “Yeah, but I didn’t realize it would be like that .”
“So you remember?” He sits on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling now?”
“Embarrassed,” I admit. “I remember thinking all those things, and none of them make sense.”
“That’s good,” he says. “It means the paranoia has passed. Apparently there’s a chance it might recur for the next few days, so we need to keep an eye out. Someone’s going to stay with you until we’re sure we’re clear.”
“Okay.” I’m not really upset by this. I don’t want to be alone right now.
“Are you hungry? Alistair made this stew thing that’s pretty good, and you haven’t had lunch.”
I sit all the way up. “He made his grandmother’s stew? Awesome.” No way am I missing that.
Gideon’s mouth quirks in an almost smile. “I’ll tell him to dish some up for you. Take your time.” He leans over and drops a quick kiss on my mouth that leaves me stunned. By the time I’ve got my wits back, he’s left.
I follow his advice and take my time making a trip to the bathroom and stretching my achy muscles.
I’m not sure if that’s a side effect of shifting, the drugs, or both, but it’s only minorly uncomfortable.
Like the day after a workout when you haven’t done one for a while.
I have a lot of experience with that feeling, since working out regularly is not something I believe in.
I finally amble down the hall into my living room. Alistair is in the kitchen, ladling stew into a huge bowl, but Gideon is nowhere to be seen.
“Hey,” my best friend says, grinning. “You look less crazy.”
“Thanks,” I reply dryly. “You always know just what to say.” I slide onto one of the stools at the counter and take the bowl and a spoon from him. “Where’s Gideon?”
“He had to go, now that you’re awake. There are some things he needs to follow up on for the case you guys are working. He said he’d be back later… which gives me time to ask you what the fuck is going on with you and him.”
I shovel in a spoonful of food. It’s about twice as big as it needs to be, because I have no idea what to say and I need a couple minutes to think about it. Also, how dare that bastard run away after kissing me!
He just watches me, smirking. I glare at him while chewing, then finally swallow.
“Well?” he demands.
“Nothing. I don’t know,” I admit.
“Really? Because he’s stayed over here twice now.
The whole office is talking about how protective he is of you.
Today, he refused to leave you. You trusted him over everyone else in that room, including me.
And he insisted on bringing you back here and staying until you woke up, even though there are a million things he should be doing. So… what’s it all about?”
I put my spoon down and hesitate.
“I knew it! There is something.”
“Not really. I honestly don’t know. We… so the thing is, before I started working for CSG, he and I hooked up one night.
I didn’t know he was a demon, of course.
And then I got the job, and it just seemed really awkward.
He didn’t know how to deal. I didn’t really, either.
We decided to pretend it never happened.
But… sometimes I think there’s something there.
I mean, he’s insanely hot, and his natural state might be asshole, but he can be really sweet sometimes. ”
“Sweet? Gideon Bailey? Sweet? ” Alistair’s jaw is practically on the floor.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a dick a lot of the time, but sometimes…” I shrug.
“That’s just too weird.” He shakes his head. “And I can’t believe you hooked up with him and never mentioned it to me!”
“It was before I even knew you,” I remind him.
“Besides, if I’d told you, you would have just made the awkwardness worse.
Which is why you are going to swear not to ever say anything about this conversation.
Or write anything down. Or give anyone a knowing look.
Or communicate in any way that this ever happened. ”
He squints at me. “Are we sure the paranoia has passed?”
“Yes. I just know you really well. Swear, Al.”
Sighing, rolling his eyes, he says, “Fine. I so swear. Spoilsport. Hey, I asked the doctor and Aidan if I could give you some brew, see if you still react to it like a human, but they said to wait a couple days. So I put some in your fridge. Do not drink any until you get the all-clear, but I’m having one now.
” He turns and opens the fridge. “Because I need a drink to be able to deal with the concept of Gideon Bailey being sweet.”
“Don’t be an ass,” I mutter and take another big spoonful of stew.
Although… does he have a point?
Either way, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me and Gideon.
“So if you don’t know what’s going on with you and Gideon,” Alistair says, almost as though he can read my mind, “what do you want to happen?” He leans against the other side of the counter, an open bottle of brew dangling from his fingers.
“Why do you ask the hard questions?” I complain, scowling at my stew. He’s ruining it for me.
“Is it really a hard question, or are you just too chicken to answer it?”
“I’m not chicken!” I shovel in more food.
He smirks. “Typical cat, just a big chicken at heart. I should have guessed years ago that you weren’t human.”
I almost choke on the stew, the urge to laugh is so overpowering. By the time I’ve safely swallowed my food, I’m still snorting out chuckles.
“Seriously, dude? How old are you, six?”
“You’re still dodging the question.”
Fuck. He’s right. I hate when that happens.
“Fine.” I put down my spoon again. “What do I want to happen? I want us to hook up again. I want to spend three days in bed with him not sleeping , only leaving the room to refuel for the next round. And I want to be the person being whispered about at the office because someone saw us sneaking out of a meeting room together. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
My annoying best friend laughs. “Is that the truth?”
I glare at him. He grins back. It’s so fucking annoying, but I can actually smell his smug satisfaction. Shifter senses are awesome, but not when they magnify my best friend’s irritating glee.
Finally, I give in with a sharp nod. Alistair puts down his bottle and claps his hands like a douchebag.
“I hate you.”
“You love me,” he counters. “Now, do you just want to fuck Gideon until you’re both wrung dry, or do you have feelings ? Like, do you want a wham-bam-thank-you-Sam experience, or are you dreamily planning your happily ever after?”
I grab an apple from the fruit basket beside me and throw it at him. The bastard nabs it—fucking shifter reflexes—and tosses it in the air, catching it casually. “I’m going to take that as a ‘yes, Alistair, I have so many feelings and I want to settle down into domestic bliss.’”
“You know, sometimes I really wonder why we’re friends.
” I sigh. “I don’t know. I mean, sometimes, yes, I think about how sweet Gideon can be and wonder whether he actually likes me and whether he’d be a good boyfriend.
But I barely know him, and anyway, we work together.
Crazy hot sex is maybe doable, but anything more would just be asking for trouble. ”
He doesn’t reply, which leads me to think that I must be right and he just doesn’t want to admit it, but when I look at him, he’s staring over my shoulder toward my front door, an expression of mixed horror and amusement on his face.
Suddenly, I’m afraid to turn around.
I know what I’m going to see.
But surely I couldn’t be that unlucky?
Surely fate wouldn’t humiliate me like that?
After all, I just found out that I’m a living genetic experiment.
My family and my culture were torn from me before I even knew they existed.
Haven’t I been through enough without having to deal with the mortifying burden of having my colleague, who I have to work with every day, know that I want him to screw me through a wall and cuddle me afterward?
Slowly, cringing, I peer over my shoulder.
Sure enough, Gideon is standing in the open doorway, arms crossed, face blank in his usual scowly way.