Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Timber
At dawn, there’s a knock on Cherry’s door.
“You answer it,” she says lazily as she rolls over on top of me. “I don’t think I can walk.”
After our shower, we spent the rest of the night wrapped up together in bed, taming the beast.
I kiss the mark on her shoulder, which has transformed into a fanciful letter “T.”
“Cherry’s first tattoo,” I say, tracing my fingertip over the sweeping black lines.
“I’m glad you gave it to me. Although you gave me my first…everything.”
My heart expands knowing the bond we have now.
Some day, we’ll be able to communicate so well that we’ll hardly need words. She’ll be reading my emotions as well as I read her.
I rise from the bed and grab a towel to wrap around me from the bathroom.
On the porch, I find Finnegan and Alma, along with Cherry’s grandmother.
“Well, well, well. Looks like we’re too late,” Finnegan sneers. “Shocking, as we waited until it’s so bloody light out that my eyebrows are starting to singe.”
What the hell is he talking about?
“Where’s Cherry?” Alma barks, pushing past me.
“Resting,” I say with enough authority to scare an average human. But Alma doesn’t scare easily.
Grandma Morgan follows close behind her, looking me up and down with an assessing gaze, like she still hasn’t decided about me.
That leaves Finnegan on the porch.
“You’ll have to ask Cherry to invite me in, dummy.”
I might as well tell him the truth. I stand aside and motion for him to come in. “I’m inviting you.”
Finnegan’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t mark her. Tell me you didn’t.”
My blank stare tells him that yes, I did mark Cherry with my bite last night. And that she accepted my claim on her as my mate.
“Idiots. The both of you,” he says, stepping inside.
Cherry’s not hurt. No one else was injured last night. I can’t think why he’s so upset. Though I do detect a hint of jealousy in his tone.
“Sit over there,” Alma says, pointing Finnegan toward the hearth. “Don’t sit next to me.”
“You think I’m going to attack you right in front of Morgan?” Finnegan asks. “She could turn me into a fruit bat without a second thought.”
Alma arches an eyebrow. “No, it’s not that. I just don’t want to be sitting next to you if the sunrise makes you burst into flames.”
Cherry exits the bedroom, tying a bathrobe tightly around her waist.
“What’s everybody doing here?” Cherry asks.
“We’d like to ask the same question,” says Finnegan.
I snap, “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“And it’s begun,” sighs the vampire, rubbing his thumbs into his tired eyes.
“Alma? I thought you were supposed to come over last night? What happened?” Cherry asks.
“I did come over. And I heard you guys last night,” Alma says. Cherry winces. “You left the door open, and let’s just say I wasn’t about to interrupt whatever that was.”
“Oh. Hello, Grandma. Sorry you had to learn about my new, uh, situation this way.”
“I see. Ah…let’s go make some tea for your guests, hmm?” The elder witch flounces toward the kitchen, dragging her granddaughter with her.
“Situation?” Finnegan comments when they’re out of earshot. “I don’t think that means what she thinks it means.”
“She doesn’t want to spook her grandmother,” I say.
“Much too late for that.”
I don’t understand the judgmental tone. “Look. I told you before I would never hurt her, and I didn’t. What are you so prickly with me for?”
“I’m sorry, do you know me to be a warm and cuddly puppy on most days?”
“Enough, children!”
Both Finnegan and I turn toward the person shouting at us.
Alma sits cross-legged on the sofa, hugging a pillow, the posture of peaceful zen.
But her expression is fury. “You two argue like an old married couple, and I don’t want to listen to it.
First of all, Finnegan, you need to stop negging your friend.
Cherry didn’t get hurt because she actually did a successful protection spell.
Also, she obviously has feelings for this man.
I could tell last night, even though she never brought it up with me.
Props to her, but she’s got teenage longing written all over her.
“And Timber? Your friend here is up your ass because he spent all night trying to stage a scene to throw the town off your scent and stop trying to retaliate against you for what you did to Toby Cook.”
I turn to Finnegan. “You did? What kind of a scene?”
Finn sighs and turns away from me to peek out the curtain, then winces at the sound of sizzling as the rays of the sun hit his fingers. He jumps back and licks the wound on his thumb. “Nothing. I did nothing.”
Alma rolls her eyes. “He drained a bunch of raccoons and skunks. Like, a lot of them, the disgusting vamp. Then, he strew them all over Main Street with the intention of drawing attention to him and away from you. I came along looking for Cherry, and well, you know what I heard when I got to her house. Then I saw what the vamp was trying to do and decided he needed professional help.”
Finn scoffs. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
Alma sighs. “Fortunately, the kills were recent enough, and I was able to use their energy to create a glamour and summon Animal Control. Imagine their surprise when they found our hero, Finnegan, standing over a huge, very dead black wolf.”
Cherry appears with Morgan again, with Cherry holding a serving tray filled with tea and snacks from the kitchen.
Her soothing presence breaks the tension in the room. Everyone smiles at her and her grandmother, feeling grateful for the nurturing attention.
Once all the mugs have been passed around, Finnegan continues the story.
I look at Alma then at Finn, who’s busily shoving cookies into his face. And he doesn’t care for sugar at all.
“I’m touched,” I say to him with a smile.
Uncharacteristically, Finnegan speaks with his mouth full.
“I did nothing of real impact. Make no mistake. If Toby Cook and his family ever truly tried to mess with you, you would have eaten them alive.”
“Finish what’s in your mouth, sweetie,” Morgan says.
He does as he’s told, good little vamp, then continues, “I was protecting the town as much as you. And I was protecting myself. You weren’t here 40 years ago when the whole town freaked out and tried to burn all the witches at the stake on Samhain.”
“No,” I say. “But I’ve studied my history. That was a spell combined with some whacked-out religious fervor.”
“Yes,” he goes on. “You do know your history. But I lived it. And we’re not going to give anyone a reason to swing that way again. It was an ugly, ugly time. It’s not happening. Not on my watch.”
I’ve never seen this side of my friend before. I’ve never even seen him once display any type of affection for the monster-riddled town he calls home.
“I’m touched, bro.”
“Birchdale is a safe place for monsters, as long as no one causes a freakout with the humans,” Alma says. Morgan nods along.
“Trust me. No matter how accepting they are, they love a scapegoat, especially one that has fur or fangs or horns. And once they start picking off the werewolves, the vamps are next. Then the witches. After that, I wish them good luck with the demons,” Morgan adds.
I smile at my friend and catch Cherry grinning at me.
“Finn,” I say, nudging my vampire friend. “You can pretend you like to keep the peace for selfish reasons. But I always knew you had a good soul inside that undead heart.”
Alma, I notice, looks pretty focused on stirring her tea.
Cherry comes to my side and threads her fingers through mine. I nudge her shoulder with my nose and she blushes.
“So, Grandma. Since both of you know a thing or two about protection spells, how about we go over exactly what I did the other night so it doesn’t happen again.”
Cherry’s grandmother munches on a cookie and studies the two of us for a moment.
“There’s nothing to be done. There was no accidental love spell, that should be obvious.
Love spells are far too advanced, and often result in unhealthy, toxic, abusive situations.
They are best left alone. No, the reason you two are so obsessed with each other is because you’re fated mates.
Goddess, the way I have to spell everything out for you. ”
Cherry looks up at me.
“She’s right,” I say. “About all of it.”
My mate blinks slowly. “I felt it last night. I could feel everything you were feeling.”
“Ew!” Alma cringes.
Morgan chuckles.
Cherry urges her grandmother to keep explaining. “And the protection spell?”
“It worked.”
Cherry looks from her grandmother to me, then back to her grandmother. “No, it didn’t, Grandma. I was in danger the other night on that date.”
Morgan blinks in surprise and looks between both of us. “Don’t you see? The wolf came to protect you from Toby Cook. There’s your answer, silly goose.”
A moment’s silence follows.
“I think I need to sit down,” Cherry says.
Instinctually, I draw her into my lap in one of the empty cozy chairs.
“Are you having second thoughts about us, Cherry?”
She thinks for an agonizing minute. The clock on the wall ticks. Morgan drinks her tea. Finnegan and Alma, oddly, are talking in low tones in a dark, safe corner. Weird. I thought they hated each other.
Meanwhile, my heart is beating like a drum. I can barely breathe.
Finally, Cherry speaks. “I meant what I said,” she says. “I want to be with you, and I accept you as my mate and my protector. But I have to be able to continue my craft.”
“Of course,” I say.
She hooks one arm around my shoulders. I take her tea and set it on the end table.
“Does this fated mates thing really mean forever? Like, forever-forever?”
I nod. “If you’ll have me.”
“Will our children be…you know…half werewolf or something?”
We both look at Morgan. “It’s hard to say,” says the older woman. “You won’t know until they reach adulthood.”
Cherry’s thoughtful for another moment.
“If that’s a dealbreaker for you, I understand. I’ll leave you alone,” I say, knowing how that existence will curse me far worse than the werewolf curse itself.
“No,” she says, meeting my gaze. “It’s not a dealbreaker. We’re bonded now. Whatever happens, happens. I want to be with you and that’s all that matters.”
“I want you to be sure. You’re going to have to deal with three days of unpredictable behavior every month,” I remind her.
She, Alma, and Morgan all laugh.
“Well,” Cherry says, “maybe our cycles will match up and we’ll both be ungovernable at the same time.”
I can be a bit dense sometimes, but eventually I understand the joke.
“I didn’t want to say this in front of a whole audience, but I love you, Cherry Woodbury.”
We share a soft kiss, sealing one to the other forever.
She smiles. “I love you, too, Timber Hawkins. But don’t think this means you can stop buying candles every week. You’re helping to keep the store afloat.”
Her eyes sparkle, and I’m ready for everyone to leave so that we can ravish each other once again.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll even bring the coffee.”