Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
CHARLI
Wait. “A thousand years?” He must be joking. That’s absurd.
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Gargoyles are immortal, remember? It doesn’t mean we can’t die, but we’re extremely tough to kill.”
“But I’m…human.” Raine didn’t say anything about witches living longer.
He walks over and sits down beside me. “Lifespans increase to match your mate or mates once you bond.”
“Bond? Mates?” Plural? My cheeks heat at the thought of having more than one mate. Like Macklin. Andros also pops into my mind, but given what happened this morning, I shy away from that thought.
He shakes his head. “Once you’ve decided to commit, we can discuss what’s next, but I think I’ve thrown enough at you for one day. I want to talk about what happened with Andros.”
I blow out a breath. Part of me wants to know it all now, but the other half needs time to process everything he’s already told me. “Okay.”
He picks up my hand and threads his fingers with mine. “Hearing the terror in your voice. It unraveled me. I was clear across the city when I heard you calling my name. I didn’t know if I’d make it in time. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It was terrifying,” I tell him, my voice shaking as I recall how fast Andros changed from stern, sexy lawyer to vampire. “One minute, we were talking, and the next, he was telling me to run. I don’t understand what happened.”
His brow furrows. “Andros hasn’t had an episode in almost a hundred years. Something must have triggered him. What were you talking about before it happened?”
My throat closes, and the room swims as I realize when the change started happening. “I asked him for his last name.” I repeat the conversation to Teague.
He rubs a hand across the stubble on his chin. “Doesn’t sound like a big deal. But that’s the thing with triggers. We’re always so careful to manage the big ones, but it’s the little ones that catch us off guard.”
True. I tilt my head, wondering what triggers Teague.
A door slams, and I press closer to Teague.
“It’s Macklin,” he reassures me. “Andros isn’t coming back here tonight.”
Macklin strides into the room and straight up to where we’re sitting. There’s blood on the cuff of his sleeve, and his full lips are pressed together tightly. He cups my elbows, then pulls me up and into his arms. “Andros scared the fuck out of me when he called and told me you were his target.”
Stiff at first, I wait to see if a vision will hit. When it doesn’t, I relax into him, the way I’ve wanted to since we first met. He feels good. Strong. Safe. As if nothing could harm me with him around. I run a soothing hand down his back, and he gives a long, shuddering exhale, then releases me.
Gently grasping my chin, he turns my head to the light. “How bad?”
“Not bad,” I reply.
“Ten stitches,” Teague says flatly. “MacKenzie treated her, but she didn’t have any potions with her, so there might be a small scar. She did say Joy has a treatment that should take care of it, though.”
Macklin exhales. “I’ll go by there tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. One little scar isn’t a big deal,” I tell them. If they only knew.
A stubborn expression crosses Macklin’s face. “It’s a big deal to us.” He takes a step back. “Have you eaten?”
For a moment, I don’t say anything. I thought Teague said he didn’t care about scars?
Teague shares a glance with Macklin, then clears his throat. “It’s not the actual scar that bothers us. It’s the fact that Andros caused it. We feel responsible.”
“You said he hadn’t had an episode in a long time,” I remind him.
Macklin crosses his arms. “Enough. If we can help by getting you the treatment, we will.” His deep voice is firm, as if arguing is useless. “Did you get dinner?”
Frustrated, but unwilling to make a fuss, I shake my head.
He tosses Teague a dirty look. “You should have picked up something.”
“She was asleep until thirty minutes ago,” Teague informs him, his lips twitching. “Then, we got into a discussion about mates.”
Macklin stiffens, and I freeze. Is he going to be upset about me and Teague?
“It’s about time,” he says, turning toward the living room. “Hopefully, once everyone knows, they’ll stop trying to shake your hand. I planned to grill steaks tonight before all this happened. Does that still sound good?”
I look at Teague, but he smirks. “He doesn’t give a damn what I want. He’s asking you.”
“Oh. I haven’t had steak in years. That sounds amazing,” I answer.
“How do you like it cooked?” he asks.
“Medium rare,” I return with a smile. “Thank you.”
Macklin leaves, and I turn to Teague. “What did he mean? Why is everyone trying to shake my hand?”
Teague’s eyes flare with irritation. “Most supernaturals have more than one mate. When you shake another’s hand, you can immediately tell.”
“Like us,” I muse. “Is that why Alex and Leif wanted to shake my hand?”
A tic appears along his jaw. “Leif took advantage of an old law, rarely enforced these days. When we were building Greystone, mates were scarce. Newcomers were asked to shake everyone’s hands even if they weren’t interested in having a mate.”
“I see. Well, some good came of it,” I reply, wondering if Leif found his daughter. I’ll have to go by the Wolf’s Den and check.
He motions to the door. “Let’s go before Macklin has a fit.”
As I pass by the mirror, I gasp at my reflection. A large white bandage is taped to my forehead near the hairline, and the skin underneath is already darkening with a bruise. My face has been wiped clean, but there is dried blood on my neck and the collar of my shirt.
With a grimace, I turn to Teague. “Do I have enough time to go home and wash up? Change clothes?”
Something flares in his eyes. “I’m not sure I can let you out of my sight. Can I come with you?” When I hesitate, he strides over to the dresser and opens a drawer. “Or you can take a shower here and put on some of my clothes?”
My refusal is on the tip of my tongue; I don’t like the idea of him seeing the unpacked boxes and asking me a bunch of questions I’m not ready to answer. But the thought of being alone has my stomach cramping too. I bite my lip as I go back and forth.
“I’d be more comfortable taking a shower at my place,” I tell him. “Do you mind?”
After slipping on a shirt, he hands me my shoes. The same ones I kicked off at the door to Andros’ office. When I back up a step, he nods in understanding.
“Right.” He tosses them in the corner and sweeps me off my feet and into his arms before I can protest. Then he hands me my purse. “Ready?”
“I can walk,” I protest. He, of course, ignores me.
Macklin glances up when Teague walks into the living room, but he doesn’t say a word about him carrying me. “Once I get this salad ready, steaks won’t take long. Ten minutes.”
“Push it back five,” Teague directs Macklin. “Charli’s going to grab a shower and change.” Without waiting for confirmation, he opens the door and carries me down the hall to my apartment.
With such a tight timeline, I rush into the shower immediately. To my relief, Teague doesn’t mention the boxes.
Walking back into their place fifteen minutes later, my mouth waters, and I groan. “It smells so good.” I stroll into the kitchen where Macklin’s slicing steak.
“Out,” he says, without looking at me. “Have Teague get you something to drink.”
I raise an eyebrow and glance at Teague, whose wide grin tells me this isn’t the first time Macklin has ordered someone out of the kitchen. “His domain?”
He nods. “Neither I nor Andros cooks.” He winces. “Sorry. We’ve lived together a long time. It’s going to take us a while to adjust.”
I hate that today caused a rift between them, but I can’t say I’m unhappy Andros isn’t here. “Is he okay?”
Teague pulls out my chair.
Macklin sets down a large bowl of salad.
“Physically, he’s recovered. But it’s going to take him a long time to forgive himself for scaring you and everyone else.
And it will take time for everyone to feel comfortable around him again.
Andros has always prided his control of those baser instincts.
It’s a lot of pressure, though. Bound to happen sooner or later. ”
He looks at me. “But above all else, none of us like the fact that he fixated on you and endangered your life. For now, he’s going to work from home. We’ll figure out how to move forward later.” His deep voice is sad but determined.
Macklin sets a humongous steak, dripping with juices, on the plate in front of me. It’s been years since I sat down to a full dinner, much less a steak. And never one that covers the entire plate.
I glance up at the rugged man standing next to me. “Thank you.”
Hopefully, I’ll be able to eat at least half. Though I doubt it. The lunches he sent this week were packed full, giving me dinner each night too.
“And thank you for sending all those delicious lunches,” I tell him. “I’m grateful. Truly. You don’t have to keep sending them, though. I know it’s a lot of trouble. Besides, I need to use up those groceries you gave me.”
His deep blue eyes settle on me, and it’s like peering into a tranquil lake.
Fathoms deep with barely a ripple. “You’re welcome.
But if you’re trying to tell me to stop, it’s not going to happen.
” He flicks a glance at the steak on my plate.
“In fact, I’m hoping you’ll start joining us for dinner regularly. ”
I’ve spent the last two years alone. In a car.
Rarely speaking to anyone. For an introvert, my first ten days in Greystone have been eye-opening and exhausting.
Meeting everyone, learning about supernaturals, Leif’s vision, today’s incident.
I don’t know if I can give up my quiet evenings.
They help me recharge. Not wanting him to think I’m rude, I don’t say anything.
Teague’s eyes narrow, but instead of calling me out like he does at work, he changes the subject.
“Maureen Thompson stopped me this afternoon. She’s worried about Raine.
Says she hasn’t seen her in weeks.” He shares a glance with Macklin, then turns to me.
“When you spoke to Raine, how did she look?”
I lift a shoulder. “I don’t have anything to compare it to, but she seemed fine. Maybe a little tired. Is Maureen her mother?” The other seer in Greystone.
Teague leans forward and nods. “Did anything unusual happen when you were talking to her?”
I try to think back to that night. Everything felt like it hit at once. Trying to pinpoint one thing is almost impossible. “She was there when I woke up. We talked. Then, she said she had to go and would talk to me in a few days.”
There was one odd thing. Well, two. I pause, unsure if it really happened or if I’m imagining it. “She looked to her right when she was talking to me and nodded.” A line appears between Teague’s dark brows. “Almost like she was nodding at someone only she could see.”
They both exchange a glance.
“How did she leave?” Macklin asks, his voice soft but insistent. “Through the bedroom door? Or Teague’s patio?”
I can feel my cheeks redden. “I’m not sure. I closed my eyes for a brief second. When I opened them, she wasn’t there. It didn’t feel like I fell asleep, but maybe I did.”
“I’ll go by and talk to Maureen tomorrow,” Macklin states firmly. “See how long she’s been gone.”
Gone? “You mean Raine? But she was just here.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Teague says, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “Some witches can manipulate the world around them in ways the rest of us don’t understand.”
“Like astral projection?” I ask, unable to believe the words are coming out of my mouth. “Or another dimension?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Their secrets are their own.”
I look at Macklin. “Can I go with you? I might be able to help.”
Approval shines in his eyes. “Let me give her a call in the morning. I’ll let you know what she says.” His gaze drops to my plate. “Do you not like the steak?”
Only about a quarter of it is gone. My face warms. “I do. It’s fantastic. Sorry. I’m not used to eating much.”
“How long have you been on your own?” Teague asks softly.
“Depends on how you look at it,” I say with a nonchalant smile. “My mom passed when I was sixteen.” I’ve never been able to say the word “died” out loud. Probably because she was murdered. “In college, I had a few friends. A close roommate.” Another murder.
“What happened?” Macklin asks in a low tone.
“She passed too,” I tell him, putting my fork down. My stomach cramps. “Is there a container I can put this in?” I stand and pick up my plate.
“Is that when you started living in your car?” Teague probes as Macklin gets up and takes the plate from me. He pulls out a glass container with a lid and places the steak into it.
“Lots of people my age live in their car,” I reply, brushing off the concern I see in his eyes. “It’s relatively safe, and it allowed me to save money on rent and travel.” My heart is racing a mile a minute.
Teague gets up and comes over to me. I tense, thinking he’s going to interrogate me some more, but he backs off. “Why don’t you have a seat while I help Macklin with the dishes? Then we can watch a movie.”
Macklin waves him off. “I’ve got it.”
“I’m not sure I’ll make it through a movie,” I reply with a yawn.
“MacKenzie, the healer, is concerned you might have a concussion. She doesn’t want you to stay by yourself tonight,” Teague relays to me. “Plus, she told me to wake you every few hours. Would you mind sleeping in my bed tonight?”
I still. With you?
He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll take the couch.”
Better here than my place, since I sleep on my couch. “Thank you. I didn’t want to be alone tonight.” I have a hard enough time sleeping.
He takes my hand and pulls me into the bedroom. “Why don’t we put a movie on, and when you’re asleep, I’ll leave?”
I take off my shoes and slide into bed. “Or you could stay.” After all, we slept together earlier.
“I’ll take every crumb.” He gets in and immediately tucks me into his side and hugs me tight. “It’s going to take me a while to get over today.”