Chapter 9
When Salem arrived at the property gate, still rattled after his visit with Quinn, he glimpsed a bright light moving erratically toward him from their private drive.
He gave it a minute since his headlights only reached so far.
Virgil rolled into view on his skates, his legs swaying outward and arms at his sides.
He looked ridiculous with the headlamp on his forehead, and the only stitch of clothing he had on was a pair of tight tennis shorts.
Virgil opened the gate and rolled backward to let him in.
Salem lowered the window. “What are you doing out here?”
After closing the gate, Virgil rolled up to the door and gripped it. “Freezing my ass off. Mel lost her bracelet while riding her scooter, so I volunteered.”
“Why isn’t she out here looking?”
He held up his hand, revealing the bracelet with the dreamcatcher.
“Because the easiest way to be a hero is to find a lost valuable. That’s how you get cookies and kisses.
” He leaned in. “Speaking of kisses… Where have you been? You look flushed.” Virgil twirled a lock of Salem’s hair.
“Your hair’s down for a change. Any particular reason? ”
Salem eased his foot on the gas pedal, and the vehicle rolled, right along with Virgil, who refused to let go of the door.
Virgil’s hair blew back. “Archer said some guy was asking around town about the redhead. Said he was attractive in a professional-golfer-meets-former-hometown-quarterback kind of way. Maybe her boyfriend?”
Salem sped up.
Virgil’s rubber wheels noisily rolled on the concrete as he kept speed with the car, only now he was gripping the outside mirror with his left hand. “She’s a foxy lady and a redhead to boot. If you don’t seal that deal, someone else will.”
“Let it go.”
“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that—”
When Salem hit the gas, Virgil disappeared in his rearview mirror, arms flailing as he skated off the road and into the brush.
The last thing Salem needed was Virgil drawing conclusions about his feelings for Quinn.
That wolf loved gossip, and since Tak had negotiated an important commission with Quinn, Salem didn’t want to mess that up because of unfounded rumors, especially without any understanding of where his feelings were coming from.
Was his wolf influencing his desires? Quinn had shown his wolf affection, and that might be why his animal wanted to pursue her.
Salem had never felt this physically attracted to anyone, and she had been on his mind more often than not.
After parking the car, he walked through the front door and spotted a few packmates at the sectional up ahead. An old movie played on the TV, but it wasn’t their official movie night.
In the dark living room to his immediate left, the dying flame in the fireplace cast a glow on Cici and Archer’s wolf, who were fast asleep on one of the two leather sofas that faced each other.
Cici often dozed off early after closing the bookstore because, as she described it, socializing exhausted her.
Archer’s pale wolf blanketed her legs, his head lying across her chest, her arms wrapped around his neck.
Every couple’s relationship was unique in how they expressed their affection and loved each other in public, but Salem admired theirs the most. They shared a quiet love that was deep and tender.
As Salem quietly drifted past them toward the group by the TV, the wolf’s eyes followed his movement.
Half the people at the sectional were asleep, so Salem didn’t wake them up. When he neared the staircase in the hall, Atticus poked his head out of the kitchen up ahead, his pale blond hair so distinct that Salem didn’t even need to see his face.
“I saved you a plate, Salem. Would you like company while you eat? Joy’s asleep in the cottage with the baby.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m turning in early myself. Did Cleo eat well today?”
Atticus stepped into the hallway but remained close to the kitchen. “The little miss had her dinner on the patio. Krys took his plate out and kept her company.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
“Indeed. A few others wanted to join, but a debate sparked on whether it would spook her.”
“I think it’s better if we don’t force ourselves on her. Wolves can be…”
“Insistent?” the Vampire offered with a smile.
“That’s one way to put it.” Salem stroked his beard pensively and wondered if Tak had come to a decision about the girl. “If she comes out again, I don’t have a problem with one other person joining them, but let’s take it slow. It seems over the top to ambush her during dinner, don’t you think?”
“Agreed. She needs to find her confidence.”
Salem arched his eyebrows. “Oh, I think she’s confident enough if she’s sneaking around the property like you said.”
“Well, one can be adventurous but lack self-confidence. She needs to invite us into her life.”
“Imagine if you were taken in by a pack to heal and stayed long after without any commitment. It wouldn’t feel right inserting yourself into family time if you don’t feel part of the family, and she’s also not sure of her Breed. Indecision isn’t healthy, so Tak’s thinking over how to proceed.”
Atticus put his hands in his pants pockets. “I hope she stays. She deserves a family who wants her. I think she’s quite clever and funny when she wants to be. It would be good to have an older child the little ones can look up to.” He inclined his head. “I won’t keep you.”
Salem hiked up the stairs. He had a lot on his mind and didn’t want to upset his stomach by eating.
When he passed by Virgil and Cleo’s hallway down on the right, he knocked lightly on her door.
If she was dressing or didn’t want a visitor, she had no qualms about being vocal about it.
When he was greeted with silence, he cracked the door.
Cleo was lying on her stomach at the foot of the bed, her elbows propping her up as a documentary played on the television.
“What’s this one about?” he asked. “It’s not one of those murder shows, is it?”
Her eyes still glued on the TV, she replied, “The history of Japan. It’s okay, but I want to watch the next show about the sword of Damocles.”
“That second one isn’t true history.”
“Says you. I’m sure a lot of people don’t think what happened to me is true history either.”
Cleo had a thirst for knowledge Salem appreciated, but without guidance, it could lead her to not know truth from fiction, and that would be especially problematic in the Breed world where they had limited history books.
If she remained in the pack, someone would have to assess her skills and find out where to begin tutoring.
All immortals were schooled in Breed history, so that was an education she needed.
At least she was absorbing knowledge through educational programming instead of watching movies all day.
Half the battle was getting children interested in learning instead of relying on the family trade, which was often the way of Shifters.
“Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Something to snack on?”
“Nah. Krys brought me a cake.”
“A whole cake?”
Her eyes lit up as she pointed to the table by the door. The chocolate cupcake sitting on the plate had a perfect swirl of icing and a raspberry on top. Definitely not store-bought.
“You should eat it while it’s fresh.”
“I’m saving it for later.”
He wanted to tell her not to stay up too late, but it was a moot point.
Cleo kept to a different schedule, and that was fine for now.
She had no obligations or studies, but that got him to thinking of how she might benefit from structure.
“Maybe tomorrow you can help collect eggs from the chicken coop.”
She snorted. “Those birds are scared of me. I went in there one time, and they flew all over the place like I was gonna eat ’em or something.”
“Well, perhaps we can find a task more suitable. There’s a lot of work around here, and we could use your help.”
“I clean all the windows upstairs.”
“True, but we have a lot of other chores on the property that we don’t have time to do because of our jobs.” As he began shutting the door, he said, “Cleo? Don’t leave the territory.”
The guilty look on her face made him wonder what she’d been up to.
Their wolves roamed the property, especially at night.
Even if she could slip past them, they would’ve caught her scent.
Then again, she hadn’t been introduced to their wolves as a packmate, so maybe their animals didn’t care where she went.
Lucian would’ve mentioned seeing her on the cameras, but a clever girl like her might be avoiding the surveillance equipment on purpose.
In any case, she couldn’t wander far in the dark, not without scratching herself up on brambles, stickers, and debris.
The central hallway ended at the storage closet, and he made a left.
His room was across from the bathroom because that was the one Joy had chosen when she was having morning sickness.
Although he briefly moved out until she and Atticus built their cottage, he reclaimed the room afterward.
He could’ve picked a different one, but he liked the privacy.
Since there weren’t any bedrooms adjacent or across from him, he slept peacefully.
He set Quinn’s gift on the bed and then jumped into the shower. Afterward, he towel-dried his hair and went to his room to change into his sleep clothes: boxers and a white tee. He wore boxer briefs beneath his clothes but found them too uncomfortable to sleep in.
Joy had taken the large dresser, accent table, and nightstand, leaving him with a bed. He’d been meaning to do something with the space but had little time. The built-in shelf in the closet suited his needs, considering he didn’t own much.
Salem carefully unwrapped the tissue paper and held the redbird up, its feet perched on a branch, green leaves curling around one side.
He admired the craftsmanship. Something about it had caught his eye above all her other pieces, so it was a generous gift, especially after he rudely barged into her house.
What choice did he have? When he rolled up to her house and found the front door wide open, he called her through the screen door, but she didn’t answer.
When he heard a strangled moan coming from another room, he thought someone might be attacking her.
After all, she lived alone.
Once inside the house, he realized the sound was coming from her bathroom.
Salem had seen so many injuries from bathroom falls when he used to work in an emergency room that he expected to find her lying on the tile in a pool of blood.
Even when he walked in and saw her in the bathtub, it didn’t register right away that she wasn’t injured.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Salem attached the adhesive hook on his bedroom window before hanging the delicate redbird.
The other window by the bed faced west, and he wondered if it might look better there.
Then he worried it might fall and break.
Maybe the north-facing window was better since it wouldn’t melt the adhesive.
Salem had never toiled over something so trivial in his life.
After switching off the light, he climbed into bed and lay with his eyes open as he thought about Quinn’s unpaid debt. A favor trade was binding in their world. Someday her friend would find out she lied to get out of the favor, and he might ask for something greater.
Putting that thought aside, he relaxed and closed his eyes.
An image of Quinn in the bathtub flashed in his mind.
Her foot propped on the tile, suds sliding down her calf.
The hungry expression on her face when her back arched, pink nipples undulating in and out of the rocking water as she pleasured herself.
All the blood had rushed to his cock, both then and now. Salem tried to put the visual out of his head, but the next thing he knew, he was stroking himself.
What if, instead of reacting with surprise, she had locked eyes with him? What if she’d kept going while he stood there watching? What if she had invited him to touch her?
He imagined kneeling at the edge of the tub, dipping his hand beneath the warm water and stroking that silky place between her legs. Would she gasp in surprise or grip his wrist and show him how she liked it?
“Dammit,” he hissed before rolling onto his side. “Stop thinking about her.”
But he couldn’t.
Salem was infatuated, and the only way to satiate those desires was to act on them.
He decided he needed to have sex with her and get it over with, but that would completely depend on her.
Shifters weren’t shy about expressing their desires, and he knew she was attracted to him.
Sex would reveal that she was no different than any other woman.
If only his wolf would listen.