Chapter 2 #2
“Those gods were wicked,” she pointed out with disdain. “Mortals are their playthings, and it’s all about servitude. Like, if you don’t worship us, we’ll destroy your city.”
Last year, Tak placed a bookcase next to her bed for her books, tablet, and other junk.
Unlike most teens, she didn’t have posters on the walls, decorative lights, or even a computer station.
Those things didn’t interest her. A stained glass cat Quinn had made hung from a chain on her lamp, but like Krys, she didn’t surround herself with possessions.
He wondered if, deep down, she was afraid this home wasn’t forever.
“You don’t have to stay in this room, you know.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Do you want to change rooms? You can pick one with a window.”
She tugged on her earlobe. “No way. I don’t want a window.”
Krys faced the TV, satisfied with that answer. “Safer that way anyhow. I’m not a fan of windows.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Check the locks all the time.”
A kid her age wasn’t ready for the truth. He rubbed his hands down his black jeans and tried to think of a sensible reason, but she was always asking questions with complicated answers.
“Do you think those Vampires are coming for me?”
Krys shot to his feet. “Hell no. I check the locks because someone needs to.”
Sitting cross-legged, she pretended to read one of her books. “It’s not fair. You know my story, but I don’t know yours. People treat me like a little kid, but I’m not.”
That remark pierced him like a sword to the gut. A girl her age deserved to feel like a kid, but Cleo had matured faster than most because of her trauma. He gripped the wolf pendant around his neck and wondered why she had asked about the Vampires.
Cleo raised her head. “If you don’t think they’re coming for me, are you afraid they’re coming for you?”
“Me?” He jerked his head back. “No one’s coming for me, and if they do, they better be fucking afraid. Those fangholes are nothing but ashes, kid. We made sure of that.”
She raised her big brown eyes. “Then why do you always check the locks?”
He crossed his arms when his pulse quickened.
Brushing off her questions could sever the trust between them, which had taken months to build.
Lying would also be a shitty thing to do, but his stomach clenched at having to admit the truth out loud.
“Bad stuff happened to me as a kid. Someone took me.”
Her eyebrows popped up. “You too?”
“Yeah. Maybe if someone had cared enough to lock up the house, it wouldn’t have happened. I don’t want anyone in my pack getting snatched.” He fell quiet for a beat. “I don’t tell that story to people. Archer knows, but…”
“I’m not a snitch.”
“I know. Wouldn’t you rather read in the library?” he asked, switching topics so he wouldn’t have to talk about his childhood anymore.
“I like TV noise in the background when I’m studying, and I can’t do that in the library or it’ll wake Tak. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo.”
“Why do you say that?”
She opened the crackers. “Because I’ve locked myself in here for the past two years. I mean, yeah, I was depressed and stuff, but I was trying to figure out who I was. TV and music helped.”
Cleo had never mentioned that before.
“Helped how?”
After nibbling the cracker, she dusted off her fingers.
“The Vamps gave me a memory wipe. The only version of me I remember is from that room they locked me in. I didn’t get a TV or have anyone to talk to.
When I came here, I didn’t know what foods or TV shows I liked.
It’s weird ’cause I’ll hear a familiar song and know the words, but I don’t know if I like it or not.
Who am I?” She tapped the cracker against her nose.
“That is the question.” Crumbs sprinkled onto her lap after another bite.
“Like, do you know how annoying it is to be asked basic questions you can’t answer? ”
“Such as?”
“What’s your favorite hobby? What’s your favorite movie? Where did you live before you came to Storybook? Who are your parents? What’s your animal? I don’t know. The kids around here make fun of me.”
Krys stacked up her books and wanted to impart the same wisdom he once gave to Archer, advice he followed himself.
“You know what that is, kid? Trauma drama. Sometimes we make things into a bigger issue than it needs to be. It doesn’t matter what the hell those people think of you.
” He slammed the books onto her desk. “If you want to figure out what you like to do, go outside and play. Do stuff. Hell, I’ll take you surfing if that’s on your list.”
She laughed and fell onto her side. “I don’t even know if I can swim. I’d probably drown or get eaten by a whale.” She kicked the covers to the end of the bed, her eyes fixed on the TV.
He steered his attention back to the movie when a white horse flapped its wings.
Cleo had come a long way. She used to have night terrors, and sometimes he’d found her underneath the bed.
Although Salem’s room was conveniently closer than his, Krys was the only one who could calm her.
She trusted him, and he knew how to talk her through it.
Sometimes he would lie down on the hard floor a few feet away and keep her company while she fell back asleep beneath the bed.
He didn’t pressure her to come out or talk.
Never once did he think anyone would trust him with their whole being, but she did.
Maybe she needs to sever that connection before she winds up like me, checking locks in the middle of the night and throwing punches in bars.
“Don’t turn that up too loud or you’ll have Virgil in here watching TV with you,” he warned her.
As he turned away, she said, “Krys?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you take this box? I’m not in the mood for crackers.”
After walking to the bed, he collected the graham crackers and pivoted.
“Krys?”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t reach the covers.”
This wasn’t the first time she’d pulled this act. Maybe she was just being a lazy teen, but sometimes Cleo would kick those covers off the bed and ask him to cover her.
She wanted him to tuck her in.
Cleo rolled onto her back while he pulled the sheet and blanket to her hips.
“Higher,” she demanded, eyes still glued to the TV.
He yanked the covers over her head.
Cleo giggled uncontrollably.
“G’night, kid.” Before leaving the room, he noticed she was still under the covers. “One more thing: Don’t eat cherries in bed anymore.”
She flipped the bedding off her head. “Why not?”
“Bear’s having a conniption downstairs about stained sheets.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed. “Did I ruin them? I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s no big deal.” He rumpled her hair. “Dry food only. You shouldn’t eat in your bed anyhow. It leaves a trail for the rats.”
A smile stretched across her face. “There aren’t any rats.”
“Not yet.”
After closing the door, Krys headed to the shower in the back hall. Salem and Quinn slept like the dead, so he never worried about waking them.
The bathroom Lakota and Mel were occupying had a garden tub, a small shower, and a love seat. This one had a large storage cabinet along the right-hand wall, and instead of a bathtub, they’d built a spacious shower on the far wall. It even had a stone bench.
After stripping off his clothes, Krys set his rings on the sink along with his pendant. The silver shield had a wolf’s head on the face. Shifters didn’t usually wear their animals on them as decoration, but to Krys, the amulet gave him protection.
Staring into the mirror, he stroked his dark goatee.
Damn. I need to trim this shit down before I start looking like Bear. I’ll do it in the morning.
Lately, Krys had been working out with Archer to get more toned, and it was paying off. He had a lean physique with hard muscle, but now there was a little more bulk, and he felt stronger.
Krys tossed his clothes onto the floor, entered the shower, and turned on the water. A cold shot hit him on the chest before gradually heating up.
After rinsing his hair, he lathered up using a bar of soap. He didn’t like liquid soap because it always smelled fruity, so he kept a bar of the classic stuff that smelled fresh and green. When he glanced at the holder, something caught his eye.
“Son of a bitch. Who the hell’s been using my soap?”
It had a deep groove down the center. He’d noticed it the other day, but now it was more pronounced. They had an unspoken rule about using each other’s toiletries, so it pissed him off.
After squirting a shampoo-and-conditioner combo into his hair, Krys closed his eyes and worked up the lather. It always took forever because of the length, and after all the manual work in the yard today, he spent extra time getting the grease off his scalp.
“Knock, knock. I’m coming in,” Virgil announced.
When Krys snapped his eyes open, shampoo got in them. “Dammit!” The stinging forced him to flush them beneath a stream of hot water. “Can’t you tell I’m busy?”
“You take too long. Mel’s using up the hot water, and you know how I hate cold showers.”
Krys wiped his eyes and glanced through the glass door. The partition wasn’t clear but frosted, so he could make out a blurry image of Virgil stripping out of his clothes. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Either hurry up and finish or I’m coming in there with you.
Take your pick. Since when are you shy?” After his pants hit the floor, Virgil was completely naked and facing the door.
He approached as if to enter but then turned around and leaned against the shower wall, his butt cheeks pressing against the glass.
“Where have you been all night?” Krys asked.
“Finishing up Fritz’s roof.”
“It’s almost eleven. You were roofing at night?”
“I was almost done anyhow. Hurry. I need the shower before the odor is permanently sealed to me.”