A Shift in the Water (20 page)

When he’d set out plates, silverware, and napkins, he leaned against the wall and watched her cook. Potatoes sizzled in a pan. The steaks had been seared on the stove and were now in the oven. Garlic, shallots, and butter waited in a bowl. His stomach growled insistently. Cade hoped this constant need to eat would go away soon. How was he going to survive on his own when he had to eat every three hours?

He’d come to a sobering realization sitting on a park bench at the edge of Green Lake. He had to go back to Bellingham. He needed to see where his pack died. Maybe if he saw his shop or the woods where he used to run, he’d remember. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay with Mara. The bad woman could find him in Bellingham. But he didn’t know what else to do. How long would his memories take to return otherwise? Another day? A week? A month?

Perhaps it would be better for her to find him again and kill him.

But then he would never see Mara again.

He wouldn’t shift back into his wolf. Never again. As a pure-blooded werewolf, he could control the urge to shift at the full moon. He’d never run as a wolf again. Never howl at the moon, never feel the power of the shift overtake his human form. It’d be denying half of who he was, but he didn’t care. If the bad woman found him again, she wouldn’t be able trap him. She’d have to kill him as a man.

“Cade?” Mara interrupted his thoughts. “Think you can manage a bread knife?” She gestured to a loaf of bread sitting on a cutting board on the counter.

“Maybe? Only one way to find out.” He gripped the knife in his right hand, contemplated the grip, and then switched it to his left. “Huh.”

“What?” she asked.

“I think I’m ambidextrous.” He grinned and made a quick, deft slice through the crusty loaf of bread. He cut five slices and set the cutting board on the table. “What’s next?”

She moved to one side of the stove. “Get the steak out of the oven and set it on the front burner.”

“I think I used to like to cook,” he said when he got a whiff of the rare meat. His mouth watered and he snapped his jaws shut so he wouldn’t drool. Every hour brought new realizations, new memories. Even this simple act of helping Mara in the kitchen opened previously closed doors in his mind. He had a sudden flash of a bubbling dish of lasagna and his stomach growled again.
“This is great, boss-man. Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
Livie’s voice in his memories brought a smile to his face.

“Then you get to handle dinner tomorrow. Wine glasses are on the top shelf. Pour yourself some and have a seat. Another two minutes and I’ll rest the steak.”

Tomorrow
. She wanted him to stay. Expected that he’d still be there. God he wanted to stay. He didn’t want to leave her. Ever.

She spooned butter over the steaks, effectively poaching them. When they rested on a platter, the kale went into a fresh pan to wilt and she gave the potatoes one last stir.

“I worried about you, you know,” she said quietly, keeping her back to him. “When you ran out on me. I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

Cade balled his hands into fists. He’d hurt her and that was unacceptable. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s the moon.”

“What about it?” Mara turned and leaned a hip against the counter.

“I can feel it. Wherever it is in its cycle, I know. Right now, it’s a new moon. It messes with me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Mara spooned the potatoes and kale into bowls and brought them to the table. Next came the steaks and two bowls of melted shallot butter. She took her seat next to him and slid her fingers along his. They were gentle, her touch tender. “Try.”

“Weres get testy this time of the month. We’re weakest on the new moon. I think . . . I think she trapped me during one.” He shuddered at the memory. Twisting his hand, he grasped her delicate fingers. It took him a few breaths to calm his pounding heart. “When I had a pack I used to break up fights. I have this vague memory of Liam pummeling someone. I don’t know who. I closed the shop those days. Being around sharp tools wasn’t a good idea.”

Mara served him a steak the size of half the dinner plate and poured a bowl of shallot butter over the top. The scent had him salivating. It was medium rare and more tender than any meat he’d ever eaten. “Shit, honey. This is amazing.” The fact that he’d started calling her honey didn’t escape him, but she seemed not to notice.

She smiled and blushed. Or perhaps she had. The candlelight turned her face a pale pink. Her green eyes sparkled. She dug into her own steak in silence. It was half the size of his, but at least she was eating.

Feeling a little braver and fueled by the meat, he cleared his throat. “I asked before. But really . . . you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“No. No one wants to go out on a date with a dying woman. I’m not—I wasn’t—a good investment.” She drained half of her wine glass and when she set it down, it nearly toppled over. Her hands shook and she shoved them under the table.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” He kicked himself silently. He didn’t want to cause her pain. Still, a subtle thrill raced down his spine knowing she wasn’t seeing anyone. It meant he had a chance.

“And you? The obituary said you were thirty-one. Are you still? Or thirty-two? You’re not married?” Mara bit her lip and held her breath.

Cade rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know how old I am . . . when my birthday is. Spring? I think? I know I’m not . . . with anyone. Werewolves know. When we . . . mate . . . it’s physical as much as emotional. I’d know. And I would never have kissed you if I’d been mated. I couldn’t have even thought of it.”

“That’s some moral code,” she said.

“Wolves mate for life. It’s who we are. Who I am.” He shook his head and shoved half a slice of bread in his mouth. At least twelve ounces of steak, several pieces of butter-soaked bread, kale, and potatoes sated his stomach. He almost felt full. “What about your family?”

“I was adopted when I was six-months-old. My birth parents are both dead. But I had great adoptive parents until my mom had a heart attack when I was sixteen. After that, my dad shut me out and started drinking. He loved me, but Mom was his entire life. Aunt Lillian—my dad’s sister—she became my mother and father then. Helped me apply to colleges, moved me into my first dorm, nursed me through my first breakup.” She smiled sadly. “Dad died a few years ago. We weren’t close any more. But Aunt Lil moved up here when I got sick. She lives a few miles away.” She sliced off a bite of steak. “She’s awesome, even if she did turn into an overprotective mother hen when I got sick.”

Cade couldn’t blame the woman. He didn’t smell any sickness on Mara now and he’d known her less than two weeks, but he knew that he’d never let anything happen to her if he was ever a regular fixture in her life. She had this way about her. She was nurturing and strong, but there was something in her that begged to be soothed and protected. Maybe it was her illness. Maybe it was her mother dying. Maybe it was her water element. He couldn’t figure it out, but a part of him deep down inside, the part of him that was his wolf, knew that she was his. She always would be.

Over pie, Mara told Cade about her childhood in California and her last serious relationship with an asshole named Roger. When they’d finished dinner and the dishes were done, they moved to the couch. Cade was tired, but he had to tell Mara what he’d decided.

“I need to get to Bellingham. I know it’s asking a lot, but can you get me a bus ticket? And maybe a duffel for the clothes you got me? Hell, even a trash bag would be fine.”

“You’re leaving.” In the candlelight, her eyes blazed. Her voice took on a hard edge. “You want me to help you go to the one place she’s most likely to find you. Alone. With no resources. No transportation of your own. No defenses other than your wolf.”

He couldn’t tell her that he wouldn’t even have his wolf. He couldn’t shift again. The very thought terrified him. “Please.”

“No. If you want to go to Bellingham, I’ll take you tomorrow.”

“Mara, no. You can’t come with me. It’s too dangerous.” He got up and started to pace the room, but the wine and his still-healing body worked against him. He stumbled, crashing to his knees and narrowly missed slamming his head into her coffee table. He sat back on his ass as Mara dropped down next to him and squeezed his knee.

“Yes. It’s definitely too dangerous,” she snapped. “For you to go alone in the state you’re in. Come on. I made up the guest room for you. We’ll talk about this more in the morning.”

Mara helped him up and kept an arm around his waist. The very scent of her calmed his wolf. The guest room bed sported dark blue sheets and a patchwork quilt in blues and grays. His spare clothing was folded on the desk under the window. Mara tugged back the blankets for him. “There’s a toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom. If you get hungry, the cookies and the pie will be on top of the fridge.”

Cade grabbed Mara’s wrist before she could escape the room. “Wait.”

Her skin was soft. Her pulse thrummed under his touch and he brought her hand to his lips. He frowned. “How do you feel?”

“I’m a little tired.”

“You don’t smell as much like rain as you did earlier.”

“Lovely. You really know how to talk to a woman,” she said flatly. “No wonder you’re not . . . mated.” She tried to pull her hand away, but Cade held fast.

“No. Goddammit, honey, you’re getting sick again. I can smell it. Every time you got weak, my wolf knew. You’re not there yet, but you’re not as strong as you were this morning. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I’m dying. I told you that.” She wrenched her wrist away and stalked out of the room. “Good night, Cade.”

Ten

Mara couldn’t sleep. She missed the wolf next to her. The bed felt empty. “Get over it,” she muttered to herself, turning over so violently that she tangled her legs in the sheets. Cade’s words hung heavy in the air.
You’re getting sick again
.

“I feel fine. What the hell does he know?” She got up and trudged into the bathroom to refill her water bottle. Her hands trembled and the bottle slipped from her grasp and landed with a dull thud on the bath mat. “Shit.”

He was right. This was always how it started. Trembling hands, then the headache, then the exhaustion, then the dizziness. She gulped down half a bottle of water and the trembling ceased. Well, that was something. She slipped back under the covers and stared at the clock. One in the morning. Then two.

Creaking floorboards in the kitchen startled her. Cade paced from the living room to the kitchen and back again. He couldn’t sleep either. Why not? He’d been exhausted not two hours ago—so weak he’d barely been able to keep his eyes open. She found him leaning against the counter with a cookie in his hand. His back was to her.

“Can I have one?” she asked.

Cade jerked and nearly dropped the half-eaten cookie with a hoarse yelp. He sounded so much like the wolf sometimes.

“Easy there. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Mara hurried over and caressed his bare forearm. In the dim light from the street lamps outside, she got a good look at his chest. He wore his jeans slung low over slim hips. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sprinkling of hair covering his torso, his sculpted abs, and the cut of his obliques as they angled down into his pants. Goddess, why hadn’t she thought to buy him pajamas? Or a parka. Yes. He needed a parka. Something big and shapeless to hide his body.

He blew out a breath and passed her the half-empty box of cookies. Without a word, he moved away from her touch and brushed his hands over the sink. He didn’t turn back around to face her again.

“What woke you?” she asked after a bite of chewy, chocolaty goodness.

“Memories.”

Mara wrapped her arms around his torso. He stiffened and tried to pull away, but she held fast, pressing her cheek against a long healed burn on his back.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice practically a growl.

“What? Let someone comfort you?”

“Do this. Be close to you without . . . more. I don’t even know your last name. And despite your rather logical argument about my current level of health, I’m going to have to leave soon. Don’t make it harder on me than it’s already going to be.”

“What?” Mara released him and backed away. He turned around and she flicked on the light to get a better look at his face.
Goddess that stubble is sexy.
She couldn’t help herself. The man in front of her warmed her entire body.

“Wolves are instinctual creatures. I want you, Mara. And it wasn’t only the nightmare that woke me. The bed feels . . .”

“Lonely. I know. There’s a remedy for that.” She looked up at him through lowered lashes. She needed him close to her.

“No. I mean, yes. There is. But I can’t sleep with you. I’m sorry I said anything. Good night.” He turned and strode back into the guest room and shut the door.

“Taylor. My last name is Taylor,” she said quietly.