Chapter 12
tWelVe
I SHOULD LEAVE. THE words echoed through my mind for the millionth time.
The day had come and gone, and after the interaction with the police, Haven's remained quiet.
She hadn't stepped outside, and the windows were covered.
Dim light spilled from her bedroom, and every once in a while, I was able to spot a shadow move through the crack in the curtain.
There was no reason for me to be there.
I should leave.
I snorted at myself. I knew that's what I should do, but my paws didn't move. I was rooted to the spot behind a thick pine I'd occupied for hours. My thoughts flopped like a dying fish between she's a BioSynth plant and she's an innocent. I couldn't make headway on either theory.
Mainly because all the evidence I had so far was stacked toward her being a plant.
The tug we felt toward each other was real. The bond lights had been there. They were gone now, but they’d existed without the mate bite.
What other explanation was there?
According to Bacon, this bond didn't follow any of the natural laws the fates prescribed. Which meant either the laws were broken... or someone had broken them on purpose.
I wondered if there was a fate around to ask. They existed; I just wasn't sure where. Maybe they had taken off with all the other gods. Or were still lying low and avoiding Fenrir.
I doubted there was a phone number I could call. It would be too easy if it was 1-800-CALL-A-FATE.
My stomach growled, startling a squirrel dozing on a branch above me. In retaliation, it threw a pine cone at my head.
I took that as my cue to leave. I might not be able to call the fates, but there had to be something I could do besides standing outside Haven's house like the exact brand of creeper I kept insisting I wasn't.
The headlights of her neighbor's car cut through the woods and I squinted to avoid going blind. I trudged back to my house, kicked the door shut behind me and did a twisting flop onto the bed.
Not my bed, mind you, the guest bed that still smelled like chemical candy.
Still smelled like Haven.
I must have slept, though it didn't feel like I got a single wink. I sat up and stared at the crow in my yard. This morning's alarm clock. I liked birds. Even had a multi-level bird feeder I kept stocked with various nuts, seeds, and berries.
Right then, I wanted to kill that crow.
"Shut up!" I roared and it took flight. Then I felt bad.
Feeling bad about wanting to murder a crow was.
.. new. And unwelcome. I was happy-go-lucky—or at least that's the image I projected.
Inside I was a mass of anxiety and worry most of the time, but keeping the outer mask of the class clown mitigated it somewhat.
I didn't get angry. That was Roul's territory. But right then, I was a ball of rage.
I wanted to shred something. Why was I the one who got a complicated mate?
Sure, the others had been in trouble, but the bond itself was easy.
I was easygoing. I was likable. Even the scientists said so.
If one of us had to entertain the idea of bonding to a trap, why was it me?
Why not Kragen, who was smart enough to figure this shit out?
I raked my claws down the back of my ear; the pain made me wince.
The sharp bite of it sank deep, hot and immediate.
At some point, I'd lost my claw caps. Fantastic.
I stomped through the house, yanked open the kitchen drawer and then slammed it again when there weren't any caps inside.
I went around the kitchen, mistreating the other drawers as I went.
Finding them all devoid of small silicone claw-blunting goodness, I roared.
"Hey, hey, what's happening here?"
Kendal's soft voice cut through enough of the fog that I didn't rake my claws over her face, but it was a near thing. "I'm mad!"
She backed up a step, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Can you tell me why?"
Her lack of judgment took more steam from my sails. I slumped to my haunches. "No... Maybe."
She nodded again. "Identifying emotions you aren't used to is hard. Knowing you're mad is a good start."
She sat on the couch facing me, one foot tucked under her hip. "Why do you think you're mad?"
I growled in frustration. "Because everyone else got perfect mates and I'm stuck with the one that might be a trap to recapture us all."
She burst out laughing. The guffaws trailed into chuckles when I shot her a look promising death.
"I seriously doubt Drym or Thurl would call Jade and me perfect."
I was going to object, but she raised her voice to stall me.
"But I understand what you mean, and your frustration is valid."
I slumped further. "It is?"
She came over and rubbed my back. I resisted the urge to slump the rest of the way into a puddle on the floor.
"Of course it is. Your instincts want her, but you're worried that she'll be the downfall of all the 'fangs. More than that, you're worried she's using you. It's not fun wanting someone you don't know you can trust."
I nodded and swallowed hard. "What do I do?"
She leaned into me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
"You take it one step at a time. You acknowledge what you feel.
You let us help you." She pulled my muzzle so I had to look her in the eyes.
Her fire and confidence were absolute. "And you realize that none of us—not me, not Jade, not the other 'fangs, not any of our friends—are going to let BioSynth take any of you ever again. "
Something in my chest loosened at that. And something else—something sharp and terrified—tightened.
Because for the first time, I wasn't afraid BioSynth would take us.
I was afraid they had already taken her.
C