Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (321 page)

His shoulders filled the short-sleeved shirt, and although snug on his chest, it fell loosely to his waist. He put his hands in his pockets as he waited for my inspection to finish. Embarrassed, I tore my gaze away, but not before I noted he’d left himself barefoot.

“Brat,” I muttered. Then, I cleared my throat and added, “You’ll do.”

I turned and caught Rachel’s smirk. “Quiet from the peanut gallery.”

Mercifully, the doorbell rang then so she just laughed and rushed to answer it. Their arrival spared me from having to look at Clay again. In a way, I’d forgotten the man under the fur.

I followed Rachel slowly, feeling curiously lost. Clay walked softly behind me.

“Come on in,” Rachel said to Peter. Peter stepped in, and Scott followed inches behind. Peter gave me an apologetic look as he moved aside. Scott’s eyes found mine, and he smiled widely. I flashed a politely cool smile in return.

I could see the moment Scott spotted Clay. His face first fell then firmed in tense appraisal.

“Hi, Peter,” I said. “Nice to see you again, Scott.” His face lit at my statement, and I felt badly that I needed to hurt him in order to end his fixation. “We were going to join you guys, but Clay just got off of work a little while ago and suggested he and I take advantage of the empty house tonight.” My heart skipped a beat or two at my bold words, and I struggled to control the blush that wanted to paint my face. Thankfully, Clay stood behind me so I didn’t need to witness his reaction to my words.

Scott’s face was a different story. I watched it turn red.

“Isn’t Clay your dog?” he asked suspiciously.

“We named the dog after my boyfriend. It’s a bit of a joke. Clay, meet Peter and Scott, Rachel’s friends.” My disassociation of Scott broke him. His shoulders slumped, and the familiar look of shame stole over his face. Why did this happen? I hated it. Pity and remorse swamped me.

Clay lightly set his hand at the small of my back. A casual touch. His palm slowly warmed a large area. Even in man form, he could sense some of my anxiety.

Scott noted Clay’s hand on my back, glanced between us, then turned to his friend.

“Peter, Rachel, I’m sorry to back out on you, too, but I think I’m going to head home. I’ve been fighting a cold all week.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned and left.

Peter, who’d looked apologetically anxious when he entered, watched his friend leave with a concerned frown. Rachel murmured something to him. He nodded and went to the closet to retrieve her jacket. Rachel looked back at me as Peter held out her jacket to assist her.

“Are you sure you want to stay in?”

Rachel accepted Peter’s help with an ease that usually came after being together for years. I doubted they even realized how in tune they were with each other. That often happened when people found their perfect match. Their lives blended in a seamless perfection they simply called love. It was more than that, though. Their deep connection put them in tune with each other’s needs and wants. It kept them open to suggestion and reason so they would always listen to each other. Yep, I’d need to look for a new roommate soon.

“We’re sure,” I said with a smile and waved them out the door. “Don’t come home early.”

When the door closed behind Peter and Rachel, I exhaled slowly, and turned to Clay, breaking our connection. I smiled at him.

“Home free. Thank you, Clay.”

The subtle difference between living with Clay-the-dog and standing in a room alone with Clay-the-man tickled the nerves in my stomach. I refused to show it.

He simply watched me as he placed his now empty hand back into the front pocket of his pants. The air cooled the spot on my back that he’d warmed.

“Um...” I wasn’t sure what to do. I hadn’t thought past getting rid of Scott.

Clay’s calm gaze made the nervous butterflies in my stomach worse. Silly, really, considering he watched me all the time as a dog. I took a breath and tried again.

“Did you want to do something since we’re both dressed up?”

He shrugged.

“You can talk to me, Clay,” I said with a little hope. I really began to wonder if he could speak. When he didn’t respond, I spoke again. “Okay, do you want to go out or stay in?”

He moved to the couch and sat in the middle, his choice clear. Stay in tonight.

I hesitated. The chair, set at an odd angle to the TV, gave you a sore neck if you tried to watch a movie from there. That meant I’d need to sit next to him to watch a movie. But I felt so exposed in a skirt and sleeveless shirt. I wasn’t sure if I could sit next to him for a full movie.

While I debated my options, he watched me closely.

“I’m going to go change,” I stammered. “I’ll be right back.”

I turned and made it one step before the back of my shirt snagged on something. Surprised, I looked over my shoulder and found Clay standing right behind me. He held a fold of my shirt between his thumb and forefinger. I could see the glint of his brown eyes behind the still damp strands of his hair. He tilted his head back toward the couch and gave a slight tug on my shirt. My stomach dropped, and I couldn’t tell if it was in a good way or a bad one.

When I hesitated, he gave another tug. I surrendered, turned back, and sat on the couch.

He padded over to the movies, made a selection I couldn’t see, and crouched to start it. It amazed me that he knew how to do that. Then again, he watched everything Rachel and I did. I wondered if anything escaped his notice.

He pressed play, stood, and walked toward me with fluid strides. I felt graceless in comparison. He settled next to me and watched the previews. I tried to focus on them, too, but couldn’t. Instead, I noticed our bare feet, the scratch on the wall next to the TV, his leg lightly pressed against mine, the sound of the water as it slowly dripped from the showerhead in the bathroom, his hands loosely resting on his lap. The long list of unimportant details would not let my mind settle.

It was midway through the movie when my mind calmed enough to notice we watched an action-comedy I’d wanted to see. I’d just mentioned it to Rachel this past week. She must have gotten it after that.

Slowly, I began to relax and enjoy the movie. I even laughed aloud at one point. Clay’s echoing chuckle startled me, but in a good way. So, he
could
do more than growl as a dog. His deep laugh sounded pleasant.

When the movie ended, I stood and went to put it away. It was still early, just about six.

“Do you want to watch another one?” I asked as I knelt to look at the movie selection. “I can throw in a pizza for us.”

When I heard nothing, which wasn’t unusual, I turned and saw a pile of folded clothes on the couch. But no Clay.

“Clay?”

I went in search of him, but he wasn’t in the house. In the living room, I glanced at the pile of clothes again. He had been so quiet I hadn’t heard a thing.

It took me a moment to think about using my second sight. Because of school and Clay’s presence at home, I’d fallen into patterns where I didn’t use it often. I felt safe enough that I didn’t
need
to use it. Still, I checked. He wasn’t anywhere in the immediate area, but I wasn’t too worried about it. He did occasionally leave my side, but he never stayed away for very long.

With a smile, I picked up his clothes and headed to my room. Good thing I took forever to pick a movie.

Since I had nothing else to do, I decided to watch the movie I had spotted just before Clay disappeared. I changed into some sweats and a tank top then scrounged around in the kitchen and found what I needed to make a big bowl of buttered popcorn.

Popcorn in hand, I headed for the TV. When I walked into the living room, Clay once again lay on the couch. I smiled at his familiar furry presence.

“There you are. Want some popcorn?”

I didn’t wait for an answer but went to the kitchen to get him his own bowl and split the popcorn between the two. In the living room, I set his bowl on the floor within his reach. Then, I curled into my end of the couch and tucked my feet under him. With my bowl balanced at my side, I reached for the remote.

I’d barely started the movie when he sighed gustily, repositioned himself, and laid his head on my curled legs. The heat of him relaxed me, and I settled in comfortably, content not to move him. I ate a piece of popcorn as I watched the intro. His head shifted on my leg, following the piece of popcorn. I absently took another piece and offered it to him. He gently ate it from my fingers. I offered him a few more pieces, not fully paying attention when he licked the back of my hand.

The second movie was more an action-suspense than comedy. Halfway through the movie, I’d abandoned my bowl of popcorn to the floor. One of my hands burrowed in the thick fur at Clay’s neck, and the other lightly worried his fuzzy ear. He didn’t seem to mind my grip as I stared at the screen. At a particularly suspenseful part, the front door opened. It scared me so badly that a strangled scream tore through the air. My scream. My heart pounded as both Rachel and Clay stared at me.

“And that’s why I don’t watch suspense movies,” I said to both of them once I could breathe again. Clay didn’t stop laughing for two minutes. Rachel laughed just as hard and thankfully didn’t notice Clay’s reaction.

Clay licked my exposed midriff then, finally, settled down.

I gently tugged on his ear. “Cut it out,” I scolded softly.

“So when did Clay leave? I thought he’d still be here after you said I shouldn’t hurry home.” Rachel kicked off her shoes and flopped sideways on the chair.

I turned off the movie to give her my full attention. “Nah, I turned my back, and he took off on me.” I patted Clay on the head, and he snorted. “It’s okay, though, I have my favorite guy here.” And I realized it was true. I liked no man better than I liked Clay in his fur. Sam used to take first place, but I still felt disappointed in him for not warning me about the last Introduction and about the possibility of Clay showing up at the back door.

“He was a little scary looking if you ask me,” Rachel said as she reached over to pet Clay. Turned away from her, he took the opportunity to arch a brow at me. I fought to keep my face straight.

“When I first met him, I told him he looked like a crazy man. I still think he’s crazy, but he’s also nice and dependable.” Clay heaved a sigh. It seemed werewolves didn’t like to be described as nice either.

“So does he ever act like Scott?”

“No way.” It came out so fast I had to pause and rethink it. Nope, I definitely spoke the truth. “Most guys talk about themselves to try to impress me, or they just act scary obsessive. Clay’s different. I don’t think I affect him like I do other guys.”

I looked away from both of them, thinking. At times, he showed his possessive streak—like when I’d gone on the double date—but he didn’t act obsessive. According to my reliable sources of werewolf lore, Clay did feel a strong pull for me, but it was dissimilar to what human men felt. His pull, the werewolf version, should make him territorial and controlling, but he never seemed affected by any of that. Yet, for some reason, he stayed.

“I think he just likes being with me,” I said. I noticed Clay looking up at me and met his gaze. Even when he wrecked the truck back at the Compound, he didn’t creep on me like most guys had. “And I’m grateful that I get to be normal around him.”

Rachel laughed at me. “You sound like you’re really serious about him. Why didn’t you talk about him before this? And why didn’t you say the dog had the same name? We could have changed it.”

I decided to ignore the part about being serious. “I wasn’t sure if or when he’d make an appearance. And I like the name Clay. Besides, he doesn’t mind.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking about Clay-the-dog or Clay-the-man anymore.

Rachel switched topics. “We should probably talk about overnight visitors. What rules do we want to set?”

“Um...no loud noises?”

“Come on!” Rachel laughed louder. “I meant, weekends only? Maybe guests till midnight on weekdays? Notice needed? You know, that kind of stuff.”

She grinned at me, still lounged sideways on the chair. I really didn’t want to have this conversation with Clay present. He lay quietly, head on my lap, considerately pretending to sleep.

“I don’t know. I trust you and your judgment, and you can trust my lack of a social life. I really don’t think I’ll see Clay very often so you don’t need to worry.”

“Oh, he’ll be back. I saw the way he watched you. Are you sure the only rule you can come up with is no loud noises?”

I thought of adding that she should warn me when we had a visitor, but I looked down at Clay and figured we had it covered.

“Yeah, I think we’re fine.”

“Great!” she said with a huge grin. Then she cupped her hands and yelled, “Peter!”

The front door immediately opened and a sheepish looking Peter entered.

“You were supposed to text me,” he muttered uncomfortably.

I laughed. “Come on in, Peter. Clay and I were just going to bed.” Clay jumped off the couch first, and I got up to follow him into my room. “Night, guys.”

“Another early Friday night for us,” I whispered to Clay after I closed to the door.

I pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets. Clay settled in his usual spot and began to breathe deeply while I lay awake thinking about the conversation with Rachel.

As she’d pointed out, Clay wasn’t like the other guys. At the Compound, when I’d felt the pull Sam had warned me about, I’d panicked. I’d thought Clay would be just like the rest and that I would spend the rest of my life trying to avoid him.

When he’d shown up at the door as a dog, and not as a man, he’d thrown me off guard. Now, I realized he’d been pretty smart about it. Somehow, he’d known I would be more likely to give him a chance as a dog than as a man. Again, I’d underestimated his intelligence.

Rachel was also right about Clay watching me. He followed me everywhere. I assumed his attentiveness was to observe and learn. What if it wasn’t? His quiet presence had already lulled me into indifference over his company. I needed to be more careful.