3. Deacon
Chapter 3
Deacon
She looks so beautiful with red cheeks from running up the stairs. Unlike me, Henri prefers the elevator. The three stories shouldn’t be an issue for her, but I don’t think Henri lets her wolf out outside of pack functions. Though that cute little wolf of hers flashed in her eyes when she saw me.
Not embracing our wolves makes us softer. I should know. I’m the king of stuffing him away and only letting him out either when required or to burn off the calories from the munchies.
I should have gotten dressed, grabbed my breakfast, and gone downstairs to meet with her, but instead I’m forcing my half hard-on into a pair of jeans. All because I want her scent to linger in my space. It’ll mix with my own, and I can feel more connected to her.
I don’t think Henri knows how beautiful she is. Since her eyes didn’t drift lower than my stomach, she didn’t notice that the sight of her had me wanting her in primal ways.
Avoiding Henri and trying to discipline myself to stay away from her has been torture. I don’t want to behave. I don’t want to be the golden-retriever, good boy she deserves. I want to be the wolf she needs, the one to end anyone who looks at her funny.
Once I pull a graphic tee over my head, I get back to my study. Henri is looking at some of the specimens, rocks, and various trinkets I keep on a lower shelf. She’s bent at the waist, and her round ass, clad in dress slacks, is popped out toward me.
I bite my bottom lip, sliding my bedroom door closed. The jeans are determined to stay tight today because I’m almost completely stiff with that view. Cool it.
Startled, she jumps and turns to look at me. “These things are really cool.”
“Thanks.” I walk closer but stop myself from going to her.
Instead, I pull out the rolling extension on my desk. It makes room for precisely two to sit.
I’m setting a place for her to eat with me when she starts to object. “Oh, I had breakfast earlier.”
“Then humor me and sit with a fork in your hand.” I offer her my desk chair. It’s more comfortable than the folding chair I keep here for putting my feet on.
“Sure.” Henri sits and slides the chair in, holding the fork like a weapon she might stab me with.
If she does it, I might even like it.
After taking my seat, I start opening the glass containers.
I laugh seeing the slice of Ms. Gertie’s banana bread. It tastes so much sweeter knowing that a little bit of a lot of extra potassium is all it takes for it to be heart stopping.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, taking a bite of the warm, doughy goodness.
“Well, I figured we could brainstorm a little bit about what sort of things you’re interested in doing. Maybe find some good outreaches that interest you to make it easier for you.”
“You come up with something, Henri, and I’ll show up, put on a smile, and do what’s asked of me.” I nod, trying to make her job easier.
My reaction to Cade’s proposal was childish yesterday. So I’ve got to do some digging to get myself out of that temper-tantrum hole.
Apparently, my attempt at appeasement is not what she wanted. She purses her lips and tries again to convince me. “I think it would be easier if it was something you didn’t hate.” She circles her hand, gesturing around my study. “For instance, it seems you’ve a unique, curated collection. Perhaps an event at the science museum or the historical society? Or I know you’re a big reader and into the academics, so we could see about a library event, book club, or something?”
She glances at one of the bookshelves, where the large item in that display case is the articulated skeleton of the coyote Isabel LeFleur sent Cade. I can see where she’d get science museum out of what I did with that trophy. But it was a hyper-fixation to keep my brain occupied while I hunted down those associated with Isabel who Cade might not have thought to.
Sometimes, people just go missing. Other times they turn up dead. I prefer if my prey goes missing, everything has to be perfect for someone to turn up dead. It’s work. It’s why Henri’s boyfriend is still wasting oxygen.
She’s loyal to her piece-of-shit abusive boyfriend, and Lena’s problem stole my best idea for how to dispatch a human without drawing suspicion. A heart attack in one human connected to us is enough.
And try as I might, I can’t deny the pull to her.
“Okay.” I open another container and find bacon. “Science museum could be cool. I don’t love boring science like biology and the human body.”
Henri laughs. “Okay, fair, especially since, like, our anatomy is only half human.”
“What was it like being raised by humans?” I stuff a bite of bacon in my mouth so she feels like she has to answer.
I want to know more about her. Everything I couldn’t learn from following her, really.
She shrugs. “They had no idea. I had no idea. I didn’t shift until I was a teenager. It was terrifying. I was never one of those paranormal or fantasy reader kids. I liked real-world fiction, so I had no frame of reference.”
“I can only imagine.” I wait a moment and then offer something to connect further with her. “The people who raised me and my siblings were different from most other packs. It was a lot of old rules and intimidation tactics. I was often surprised when they did things like seek outside help for stuff. It broke the norm of isolationism.”
“What do you mean?” Henri is quick to ask.
I open another glass container and find poached eggs in hollandaise.
Do I tell her? There really isn’t a reason not to.
“They sometimes talked to human doctors about things. Progressive. Misguided. And then other times they would do things like public bondings.” I try to keep things appropriate for breakfast, but the thought of stripping Henri down and fucking her, barely concealed by the tree line, wanders into the forefront of my mind.
Henri blushes. “Woah, I didn’t think public bondings happened. I’d read about them when I did some studying in the pack’s library. But it always seemed in severe retrospect.”
I smile from my own discomfort but test the waters with her. “Yeah, I was like ten when I first saw a bonding. That sort of thing stays with you.”
Henri is pure and soft spoken. She used to get uncomfortable when Cade swore when he was pissed off. So my expectations of a reaction are low, and I don’t have high hopes for her having any deviousness in her. Not that I should have any hope at all. We’re just forced into spending time with each other. I’m just the job.
“You know, I always thought I was disadvantaged being raised by humans, but maybe not.” Henri’s words are in direct contrast to her physical reaction.
She claims disinterest, but she shifts in her seat, and the subtle smell of arousal wafts over the top of my breakfast.
Kinky. Henri surprises me yet again. Fuck, I want to know what makes her tick. We could be compatible.
I push the bacon over to her because I need her to stop smelling like that, or I’m going to do something that crosses a line. The line I cannot cross right now.
Or ever.
Henri picks up a piece of bacon and chews slowly.
I take a break from talking and push containers across the table. Henri gives in to the delicious food and eats with me.
I keep observing her carefully, watching as she eats. Where is she bruised now? None of her arm movements seem stiff, but I didn’t really get a good look at her gait.
Last month, at the full moon run, Henri was hiding freshly broken ribs and a bruised hip.
When I confronted her about the bruising, she lied and stumbled through unfamiliar and uncomfortable words. She told me it was because she likes it rough. The time before, when there were deep purple welts all the way up the column of her slender neck, she told me it was boxes falling out of the closet on her .
I’ve seen through all her lies. Fuck, calling her out on them hasn’t helped anything. But I should have known, from the day we went wedding dress shopping for Thalia and all the flippant text messages that came through on her phone, that asshole has his hooks so deep into her.
No matter how much I push, it very well could be that Henri won’t leave Nathan. He has her believing so much bullshit that the truth is lost to her. It’s evident in the excuses she makes for him.
It’s why we’re going to kill him. My wolf stretches out, waking up now that I’ve been fed and the dredges of last night’s late-night binge reading and edibles session have faded.
The wolf isn’t wrong. I’ll kill Nathan if it’s the last thing I do. But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever call Henri mine.
Probably twenty minutes later, we finish off the last of the food. And as lost as I’ve been in my thoughts about Henri, she must have been thinking about me too because she breaks the silence. “Did you want to look at events for suici—”
The shake of my head cuts her off. “Hard pass.”
Mistakes were made when I traded secrets with her at Cade’s wedding. Telling her I’ve made plans to remove myself from the earth must have sunk into her psyche, doing just as much damage to her as seeing Nathan’s abuse to her body has done to me.
“Okay, fair. I won’t bring it up again.” She looks at the shirt I’m wearing. “You have something other than one black suit and graphic tees to wear, right?”
“Uh.” I look down. I’m wearing a concert T-shirt of a band I saw once. They were okay, I guess. “Not really? I own a collared shirt. It’s also black. ”
“Okay.” Henri’s eyes widen. “You’ll need to get a more sophisticated, casual look with some more formal pieces.”
“Sure. Make a list, and I’ll...” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zachariah materializing. “Zachariah, go the fuck away. It’s too early for your bullshit.”
“I came to see the pretty secretary with the nice tush. If she’d worked for me, I’d have taken every opportunity to knock her pens on the floor.” He wets his lips, and I reach over next to my computer and pull out the bottle of whiskey I’d set there.
Henri doesn’t say anything when I take a pull straight out of the bottle. “Sorry. Guess I’m drinking before noon today.”
“I didn’t realize you had rules.” The words are super judgmental, and she backpedals. “What I mean is, I assumed that you started early, in order to get ahead of your gift.”
I nod and take another pull, knowing it’ll take a lot more before Zachariah disappears entirely, but he gets the hint and fizzles away on his own. “I try to make it until at least noon. Some days it’s easier than others.”
“You can’t be drinking or too drunk in public. Well, for most events.” Henri starts setting rules, oblivious to my issue with the ancestor.
Henri looks at me and then looks back to the door, where my eyes keep flicking. “We should come up with a phrase or indicator that you’re struggling. I’ve noticed you ask how many people are in a room. Could we come up with something more subtle?”
“Open to suggestions. And I promise to keep the drinking in public to a minimum.”
When did I get to be so agreeable?
Since you decided to try to see if she’s our mate. My wolf informs me of a decision I never made... Pretty sure I never made.
I ignore him and start stacking the dirty breakfast dishes .
“Sure, how about if you’re struggling with ancestors...” Henri turns her attention back to me. “You ask me what the soup of the day is?”
“Soup of the day.” I nod and accept her suggestion.
It’s something easy for me to remember.
“Did you want to go today or another day?”
“I’m sorry, what?” She squints at me, trying to keep up.
“Clothes?”
“Oh, right.” Henri looks at her watch. “I guess if you’re open to going today. You seemed perhaps unenthusiastic about the arrangement. Kind of anticipated needing to butter you up to it.”
“Butter me up?” I raise an eyebrow. The bad, dirty thoughts are back.
Bribe me with something fun, Henri. Something that doesn’t require leaving this room. Fuck, I’d spend a day being your personal dress - up doll for a single lap of that...
I stand up from my chair and pick up the stack of breakfast dishes.
Get it together, Deacon, I remind myself. She’s never going to do that. She’s never going to cheat. His manipulations won’t let her leave, and he’s not dead.
My cock, not getting the message, gives a wicked throb.
“Well, I know Lena enjoys her mini-golf. I tried to find something you’d be interested in. Lena mentioned motorcycle or oddity related, which makes sense now seeing your shelves. But the only thing I found was a reptile show, and we’re avoiding a whole ‘wolves as pets’ narrative. So, I kinda crossed that one out.” Henri smiles at me, and it turns into a grimace as she stands from her chair. “But there are three events in December you can go to that I think would be pretty fun and safe for you to be a little inebriated, and no one would think it was strange. At least until we can figure out more of what you’re interested in.”
When she dusts off her lap, I try to brush away the thoughts of her thighs wrapped around my head. “What sort of fun?”
“Well, two of them are winter lights shows. One’s at a garden where you can walk around and look at them, and the other one is kind of a sit-in-your-seat performance type.” She bites her bottom lip, and I pause from leading her out of my bedroom. “I don’t know what kind of substances you use, but I had a roommate in college who said the fairy lights on a low dose of MDMA is like the second-best thing in the world.” Henri offers with a shrug as I continue to walk alongside her toward the stairs.
“What’s the first best thing in the world?”
I don’t correct Henri about the drugs I do or do not enjoy regularly. But from past experiences, I know she’s not wrong . Pretty lights on MDMA or shrooms would be amazing.
Henri’s eyes widen. “Uhm. Given the comment section on any social media post you’re tagged in, I think you’re familiar with the particular thing in question.”
Oh, your thighs wrapped around my head. Of course.
In a perfect world, maybe she would reward me with the first best thing in the world? I’d even put up a small fuss so she’d want to reward me more.
I swallow hard, salivating at the thought. The desire to make her spell it out is so strong, but I fold. Behave.
I sigh. “Ahh. The kind of thing that perhaps isn’t suitable for doing in public.”
Heat flushing Henri’s face accompanies her wide-eyed look, and the sweet smell of her arousal hits the air again. I opt to walk behind her down the stairs to revel in her scent through long inhales and exhales .
Sweet little exhibitionist or voyeur, I want to enjoy that with you.
With that smell, our discussion, and my lack of self-control, I’m one bad decision away from kissing her. Which is one tiny step away from getting the taste from someplace much lower.
Fuck. This arrangement is going to kill me, and not in the way I want it to.