Chapter Twelve
Mira
“What the fuck do you mean, you’re moving out?” Cara screeches. “We had to fight administration to get a mini apartment for the three of us! We were going to room together for the rest of our time at Greywood! How can you just be… moving out?”
“Complicated circumstances,” I grit, tossing another pile of clothes into my duffle bag.
I can’t tell Cara and Valerie that I got mixed up with organized crime, but I don’t think they’ll buy other bullshit excuses, so I have to stay deliberately vague.
I look over to Cara. She’s standing in the entrance to my room, arms crossed over her chest, looking furious.
“Cara, if I could tell you, I would.” I glance at Valerie, where she idles on my windowsill, looking at the campus below.
“You too, Val. I want to. I really want to. But, for my safety and yours, I can’t.
Pushing me is only making me feel shittier than I already do, so please, let it go. ”
Valerie turns to gaze at me, giving a single nod. “I get it. Bad shit changes circumstances far too often. I'm not happy about it, I’ll miss the hell out of you, but I get it. Will you still come around?”
“As often as I can manage,” I say firmly. “I plan to spend more time away from that fucking house than I do in it.”
Cara perks up at that. “Does that mean we can go out more? I won’t have to drag the two of you by the ears?”
I smile vaguely. “Yeah, it does.”
Cara’s mood changes from furious and confused to excited in an instant. “Yay! Ohmygod, can we start tonight? There’s this hip place in the city that I’ve been meaning to check out. Some of the boys from the swim team are known to frequent it.”
What better way to get the hell away from Dorian than go to a bar? “Do they have food there?”
“Burgers and regular bar food, I think,” Cara replies. “I’m more interested in the selection of male specimens that will be available.”
I feel a smile pull at my lips. “Excellent.”
After I load up all my crap in Dorian’s car, I tell him I’m going out with my roommates tonight. He’s quiet for a long moment, but eventually he nods in acquiescence. Having to ask him for permission chafes at my independence, but I understand my situation with him is extremely precarious.
“So, I’m not going to be a captive in your House of Horrors?”
He slides me a look tinged with faint irritation. “No, Mira. I’m not your jailer. Just your…” he pauses to search for the right word. “Housemate. So long as you don’t break rules, feel free to go about your usual life. I would like to spend some time with you, though.”
And I would like anything but that. “What are the rules?”
He shrugs. “Don’t tell anyone things they shouldn’t know.
Nothing about Tuesday night in the forest, nothing about last night.
As long as you don’t open your mouth, we won’t have any problems.” He bites his bottom lip.
“And you’ll stick close to me when you’re not otherwise occupied, especially at home. ”
Which means I won’t be at his house any more than absolutely necessary. “Fine.”
He glances at me again. “And two nights a week, we’re going to do something together.”
I feel my head jerk back. “What?”
“A date, I think the kids call it. You and me. We can go out, stay in, go to the mountains to see your pets for all I care.”
“They’re not my pets, I’m their pet,” I say absently, still focused on his outrageous demand for dates.
An amused smile curls Dorian’s lips. “Oh?”
“They’re wild groups of animals. The wolf pack’s alpha sees me as an extended member of his pack, one he looks after and makes sure others don’t play too hard with. Ergo, his pet. The fox skulk sees me as an ally, I think. That’s besides the point. Why would we go on dates?”
“To get to know each other,” Dorian says simply. “I’m not that bad, you know.”
“I don’t,” I say. “And I frankly don’t want to know. I don’t care to know. We,” I motion between us, “are not dating. I’m your kind-of-captive, you’re my kind-of-captor.”
“Captor and captive,” Dorian muses. “I think I’d like that game. Especially if there were ropes involved. You’d make a very pretty captive, tied down and at my mercy.”
“No!” I snap. “You need to stop doing… that.”
“Doing what?” Dorian asks innocently.
“Sex talk. I’m not going to fuck you.”
“You’re right,” Dorian agrees, surprising me. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “What’s your deal? Why do you want in my panties so badly?”
He pauses for several beats to think that over.
“I don’t know,” he says after a long moment.
“You’re… unique. And shiny. And pretty. And very, very smart.
The way you see the world—feel the world—is fascinating to me.
” Abruptly, he shifts topics. “Does it ever get to be too much? Feeling everything and everyone around you?”
I gaze down at my lap, lips pursing. “Only every minute of every day.”
From the corner of my eyes, I see Dorian nod. “How do you deal with it?”
“I focus on the pure, untainted things in this world,” I respond honestly.
“Animals. Nature. Products of nature. Anything with a singular, predictable energy. Even herbal candles help—they’re a steady, consistent pulse of not only the same aroma, but also the same feeling.
When I’m in public, I’ll partially dissociate by listening to music. ”
“Have you ever done candle making?” Dorian asks me. “There’s a spot in the city I saw once where people can make their own herbal candles. Looked cool.”
I feel my brows draw together as I look at him. “You looked into candle making? When? Between terrifying innocents and shooting down home invaders with guns?”
A grim smile spreads on Dorian’s lips. “I found a few minutes after shooting up a barrel of puppies this morning.” He lets out a long breath. “I’m not that terrible, Mira. You can find that out for yourself.”
“What you are or aren’t is none of my business.”
“Fine. So, you like candles, animals, and nature. What else?”
I think for a moment. “Crystals. Genuine crystals, rough and mined from the earth, not the smooth, tumbled ones. I want them raw and real and consistent.” I sigh. “I just like consistency, I guess.”
Dorian nods. “The world is a very inconsistent place. Uncertain, unpredictable to everyone. I can’t imagine what that would be like to someone who perceives that chaos on an energetic level. Hellish, I’d guess.”
That’s surprisingly insightful of him. “It certainly isn’t pleasant.”
Dorian’s lips twist. “I am sorry, you know. I can see you’re not happy with being my guest for a while. I don’t want you unhappy or uncomfortable. If there’s anything I can do to help that, just tell me and I will.”
I let out a long breath, turning my gaze to the window. “No, thank you. Focus on figuring out whatever it is you need to so I can go back to my life; I’ll focus on myself.”
“What about him?” Cara questions, tipping her head towards a blond-haired guy reminiscent of a Viking from ancient times. He’s just sent her over a drink.
“No, and toss out whatever he sent you.”
Cara’s eyes widen as she gazes at me. “Really? You think he slipped something into it?” she shoves the strawberry daiquiri away from her; it slides forward a few inches on the polished faux-wood table we sit at, some of the liquid sloshing over the surface.
“I don’t know if he did, but he has the vibe like he might do some shit like that,” I reply honestly.
Valerie sighs, taking a swig of her beer. “I love you, Mira, but you make it really difficult to have faith in men. Or in our country. Or in people themselves.”
I smile grimly, clinking my beer against hers. “Welcome to the club, babe.”
Cara’s already moved onto her next prospect.
Her black hair looks particularly glossy in the low light of the bar, and her cinnamon eyes glimmer as she looks over her options for the evening.
I’ve rarely known the girl to fuck someone more than once, and she seldom dedicates more than a week to a single fling—only if the guy is very satisfying in bed.
“So, what’s up with Dorian?” Valerie asks me, leaning close.
We’re both on our first beer of the night—hers is almost empty while I’ve only taken two sips from mine.
Against Dorian’s protests, I managed to take my own car here tonight, so I need to be clear minded to drive back to his House of Horrors.
Apparently, there’s a cleaning crew taking care of all the damage from the shooting there right now.
He said that by the time I get “home” the shooting should be a distant memory.
Ha. As if I could ever forget the shooting, or call that cursed place my home.
“I’ve told you everything I can,” I say.
“Yeah, and I’ve gathered that you probably saw something you shouldn’t have seen and are being kept close because of it.” Val takes another swig. “You’re not a total captive, since you’re out with us tonight, but I don’t think you wanted to leave dorms.”
I’m not surprised that Valerie’s deduced as much; she’s brilliant and intuitive to a fault.
Still, I slide her a sidelong glance, silently asking her to not press the topic.
I know my phone’s bugged, but I don’t know just how bugged it is.
I imagine Dorian can read all of my texts and messages, an uncomfortable prospect, but the most unsavory thing on my phone is the nudes Cara occasionally sends me to get my opinion on how fucktacular she looks.
I don’t know what else Dorian can access through my phone, or if he can somehow listen in on me.
“Remember when Cara’s nudes got leaked by that one jilted guy?” I question, trying to switch topics.
Valerie thinks for a moment. “Oh, the one she was with for two weeks?”
“Nine days, but yeah. It was fucking awesome that she thought about starting an Only Fans account. She’s legendary.”
“She can hear you,” Cara sing-songs, turning back to glance at us with a salacious smile. “Frankly, anyone who gets to see my body is lucky. They’re welcome.”