Whispered Visions (Shifters & Seers Book 3) (18 page)

“The show will begin in five minutes,” Caroline announced from her stage in front of the television.

“Do you think we should explain the difference between minutes and seconds?” Layne asked when she immediately launched into yet another dramatic rendition of “Let it Go.”

Lizzie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with the hand not currently entwined with his. “She’s three. I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be happy she knows minutes are units of time.”

Layne spent the early morning hours watching Lizzie sleep. The moments he’d spent with her in his arms were everything he’d ever dared dream and more, but he knew there was a chance the late night intimacies wouldn’t survive the harsh light of day. But if anything, Lizzie seemed more sure of things. The hesitation and fear he’d sensed in her last night was gone. Her smiles and touches had grown bolder, while his own had lost some of their certainty. Years of self-doubt couldn’t be erased in one night. He knew he didn’t deserve her, and part of him was just waiting for her to pull away and say it was all a mistake.

“Did you know,” Lizzie said softly so as not to interrupt the fourteenth verse of Caroline’s unique extended version of the Disney song, “if this was England in the days of yore, I could be considered ruined for sitting so close and holding your hand?”

“Just for holding hands?” His Gramma Hagan would consider them both ruined for the things they had done last night, but even she found hand holding fairly innocent.

“Well, it wouldn’t be quite as scandalous as it would be if they caught us alone and kissing on a secluded balcony during a ball, but still, skin-to-skin contact was very taboo. One of my male relatives would feel obliged to force you into marrying me.”

He lifted their joined hands to his mouth and gave her knuckles the most sensual kiss he could manage given the circumstances. “And what makes you think they would have to force me?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice far too innocent to be trusted. “I am cursed, after all.”

Cursed. Ha. Lizzie’s only curse was being born to a family who didn’t know how to love and protect her.

“I’m willing to risk it,” he said, realizing he was going to have to deal with this particular neurosis for a long time. Possibly forever. It was okay though. As long as he had forever with her, he was willing to put up with whatever brand of crazy she could throw his way.

“And I’m willing to put up with your fear of abandonment as well,” she said. “Even though I know I will have to put up with it for the rest of ever.”

If they were any other couple on earth, he might have believed her words had echoed his thoughts simply because they were so perfect for each other they were one hundred percent in-sync. But they weren’t other couples. Lizzie was a Seer, and she’d been way too precise about things for a while now.

“I thought you couldn’t See individual thoughts.”

Lizzie’s gaze drifted to the side and her teeth worked her bottom lip. “Not normally…”

“Not normally, but…?”

Her eyes lifted to his. “It’s different with you.”

It didn’t make sense for her words to cause him joy - who wanted their every thought read? - but they did. He liked being the only anything with her.

“Different how?”

“I get more from you. More emotions. More thoughts. And it’s not noise. It all makes sense without me having to unravel it.”

Okay, so maybe they were one hundred percent in-sync.

Well, she was in-sync. He still had zero idea what she was thinking.

“How long has it been this way? Since last night?”

Her eyes slid away yet again. “Ummm… Awhile?”

“Awhile as in since we’ve started spending so much time together, or awhile as in—?”

“As in since that day in the music room three years ago.”

“Three years?”

“And that’s not all,” she said with a nervous smile. “I don’t have to touch you to See you.”

Three years. Three years of being able to See him, all of him, without so much as a touch to help matters along.

Awesome.

There wasn’t really any need to vocalize how freaked out and close to pissed off he was, was there?

“You have every right to be mad, but I promise, I’m trying. I can block most of it. Distance helps—”

“No. Distance isn’t an option. Not anymore.” It was the coyote’s instinctive response. She wasn’t pushing them away. Not again.

“
Distance helps
,” she repeated, “but not necessary. Not anymore.” She pulled her knees up on the couch, turning her body into his. “It’s gotten easier over the last few weeks. I didn’t even realize it was happening, but it doesn’t break through my barriers anymore. Not unless we’re touching.”

“We’re not going to stop touching.” He would touch her every minute of every day if he could. Obsessed? Hell yes. He always had been where she was concerned. “You can take whatever you want,” he decided. “I don’t have anything to hide from you now. If you still want me - want us - knowing how screwed up I am at this moment, then I’m not worried about what you might See tomorrow.”

Lizzie reached up and brushed her fingers across his cheek. “You’re amazing,” she said just before her lips met his.

His heart did a fist-bump against his rib cage and he completely lost himself in the moment… for all of three seconds.

“Hey!”

Layne pulled back to see a pair of dark brown eyes staring at him intently from three inches away. “I’m dancing here.”

“I’m sorry, Caroline,” Lizzie said, running a hand over her lips. “It was my fault. I didn’t mean to interrupt your performance. Will you forgive me for being so rude?”

Caroline narrowed her eyes. “You’re supposed to watch me and then clap and say, ‘Good job.’”

“What if you don’t do a good job? Do I still have to say, ‘Good job?’”

Caroline’s scornful glare swung to him. “Yes.”

“Good to know,” he said, smothering a grin.

Leaning back, finally giving them some breathing room, Caroline asked, “What are you guys doing? Were you kissing? Are you in love now?”

“Yep,” Lizzie said. Layne felt certain three letters had never caused another person so much joy before. “He’s my Prince Charming.”

Caroline’s nose wrinkled as if she got a whiff of a catfish that had been sitting in the sun for two days. “Layne?” she asked with utter disbelief.

“Yes,
Layne
,” he said. “I’m at least as charming as that Flynn Rider douche.”

“His name is Eugene. And he’s not a koosh.”

“Layne, language.” Pari’s voice rang out from the kitchen area where she was reorganizing the cabinets. “And Caroline, I thought you were going to dance for me.”

Pari had noted the change in Layne and Lizzie’s relationship that morning over breakfast, muttering something about foolish idiots and chasing trouble. Layne may have been more inclined to care if she hadn’t been fighting a smile the entire time she was saying it.

Caroline gave Layne a final you’re-on-my-list look before resuming her place in front of the television. The song she belted out sounded a bit like an R&B version of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.”

“She’s going to be on Broadway,” Lizzie said.

The dance he was watching, which included a lot of shimmies and butt wiggles, didn’t exactly look like something out of
Les Mis
.

“She’s going to be on a pole,” he said with no small amount of actual worry.

Lizzie smacked his chest, and he pulled her tighter against his side. They watched the show for a few minutes before Lizzie said, “I’m going to work on blocking it while we’re touching. I think I’ll be able to do it. Using and controlling my Sight always seems easier when it comes to you.”

“You really don’t have to. I trust you.”

She tilted her face up to his. “Everyone deserves privacy. Even mates.”

A smile stretched wide across his face. “Say it again.”

“Everyone deserves privacy?”

His mate was so saucy.

He loved it.

“No. The m-word.”

A bit of her old fears still shone in her eyes, but her goofy grin was genuine. “My mate,” she said.

“Damn straight I am. And at the next Hustings, I’m going to make it official.” It was a two-fold promise. The obvious one was that he was serious about this being a forever arrangement. He wasn’t stupid. He knew they were going to have to work to get past all the damage they’d done to themselves and one another over the past three years, but although he’d never had much faith in himself, he had all the faith in the world in the two of them together.

The other part of his promise was they were going to escape. He didn’t know how or when, but it had to be soon. His coyote was getting restless, and Layne wasn’t sure what would happen if he finally lost control over that part of his personality. True coyotes will chew off a leg to escape a trap. He had no idea what a coyote Shifter might do when it reached its limit.

The clink of the doors locking snapped Layne from his thoughts. Caroline quit singing and ran over to the couch where Lizzie promptly scooted over so she could pull the child up between them.

Layne wasn’t the least bit surprised when Alistair walked into the room looking as if he was prepared to slaughter an entire village of women and children. Despite the early hour, he reeked of sweat and expensive booze.

There was a strong chance someone had been watching the security cameras they had wrongly assumed no one was paying close attention to these days.

“Lizzie, we’re going to the library. Now,” Alistair said, his accent even more clipped than normal.

“Like hell —”

“Fantastic!” Lizzie said, cutting off his protest. “There is a book I didn’t grab last time, and I’ve been kicking myself over it ever since.” She hopped off the couch and gave Alistair one of her biggest, brightest, most insincere smiles. “I’ve just got to grab some books out of my room first, okay?”

The Viscount of Villainy was clearly put off balance by her cheerful enthusiasm. Doubt flickered across his face as he looked from Lizzie to Layne and back again. Throughout, Layne kept what he hoped passed as a calm and neutral expression. Something in his gut told him to trust Lizzie on this.

“Of course,” Alistair said, coming to a decision on something more significant than Lizzie’s request to grab some books. As soon as she was gone, he turned to Layne, all pretenses of civility gone. “You think you’ve won,” he said, “but we’ve only just begun. And I will be victorious in the end. After all, I know all your secrets.”

“You found my Taylor Swift fan fiction?”

“Make all the jokes you want. It doesn’t change the fact I hold all the power here.” His gaze dropped to the girl trembling at Layne’s side. “I have the power, and you have the weakness.”

Layne’s arm went around Caroline. His coyote was ready to attack this arrogant prick who dared threaten a child in his care, but Layne didn’t react. Now wasn’t the time, but it was coming soon, and when it did, Alistair would pay for every nightmare that had ever woken Caroline in the middle of the night.

“How does it feel to be evil?” Layne asked, partially to provoke and partially because he was genuinely curious. He’d spent a good chunk of his life feeling like he was something less than good. He knew he wasn’t a white-hat hero. He was far too selfish and lazy to ever earn a spot on the Avengers. Quite frankly, it was a sucky feeling. In his experience, no one truly wanted to be on Team Hydra. If given a chance, everyone would be Captain America.

Alistair didn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m not evil. I’m a visionary. A liberator. You’re the monsters.”

“I’ve never hurt a child.”

“Only because you haven’t had to yet,” Alistair said. “Change isn’t easy or pretty, but it’s necessary. This is a revolution. Those of us who live in the light against those of you who slink through the dark. We’re all going to do things we’re not proud of before it’s over, but it’s the price we must pay. Casualties are inevitable.”

“Jesus. You really believe that, don’t you?”

“One day you will, too. That is, if you live long enough.”

Again he had to override his instinct to attack. The coyote only heard a threat, but Layne knew he was being provoked. Alistair wanted proof he and every other Shifter were nothing more than beasts.

Of course, he felt like nothing more than a beast when Lizzie breezed through the door and linked her arm with the enemy.

“To the library?”

Alistair extracted his arm and wrapped it around Lizzie’s shoulder in a clearly possessive gesture. “To the library,” he said, his eyes never leaving Layne. They were about to step out into the hallway when Lizzie looked back over her shoulder and said, “Layne, could you look at the top drawer of my dresser whenever you get a chance? It keeps getting stuck.”

And then he watched his mate walk out of his reach with the enemy.

Layne spent the time between the doors locking and unlocking taking deep, calming breaths, and then he counted to two hundred in his head before getting up and walking very slowly to Lizzie’s bedroom. As he suspected, the drawer opened easily. Thankfully. Liam and Charlie were the handymen of the Alpha Pack; Layne was the guy who once shattered a window because he didn’t know you were supposed to unlock it before trying to open it.