Authors: Naomi Clark
Tags: #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Teen & Young Adult, #Werewolves & Shifters
But no, this was cool, laidback. She ate her pancakes and let the babble wash over her, remembering a dinner party her mother had taken her and Piers to when they were kids. Too young to join in with the cocktails and conversation, but old enough to feel important and grown-up because they were there. She felt like that again now; outside but inside. One foot in the door, edging the rest of herself in slowly but surely.
“You okay?” Seth asked her in a low voice. “I know it’s a bit … overwhelming. But everyone’s nice, they’ll all love you.” He sounded anxious, like he didn’t think she’d believe him, and she realised that not only did he want the Kurtadam to love her, he wanted her to love them.
She smiled up at him, a frisson of excitement going through her. Did he know how good he looked, or was he one of these lads who was oblivious to his own easy charm and inviting smile? “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Tai’s nice.”
“You’ll get to know everyone a bit better later,” he said, wolfing down his third pancake. “If you stick around, I mean.” The look he shot her now was hopeful, inquisitive.
“I’m sticking around,” she confirmed. She wanted to ask why it meant so much to him, what she’d done to catch his interest, but she didn’t dare. She might just be a charity case to him, a project to work on before he jetted off to Singapore or whatever. Not a happy thought.
A few of Seth’s friends, Tai included, came over to talk to them then anyway, and Lizzie found herself fending off a flurry of questions that stayed just the right side of polite. Where was she from? What subject would she do at uni? How did she meet Seth?
Nobody asked how she got turned, although she could see in their eyes they all wanted to. They looked her over, not disparagingly, but as if trying to work out where she fit in the whole werewolf hierarchy. She was an unknown quantity, she guessed, a puzzle to them.
Once the food was finished and Nuala had recruited a couple of younger people to help with the clearing up, Seth guided Lizzie out into the garden, a crew of his friends in tow. Outside Lizzie smelt honeysuckle, and heard the soft splash of water sloshing. Nuala’s garden was huge, and immaculately kept. A pond full of fat, lazy goldfish was hidden away behind a wall of rose bushes, and she imagined being here in the summer, lounging at the edge of the pond with a book and a jug of iced tea, tucked out of sight and lost to the world.
Behind the secret pond was a large shed, and that was where Seth took her, his fingers twined with hers the whole time. In the dark, with the soft lights and echo of voices in the house behind them, his touch felt more intimate, more important. This wasn’t a show of support for the others, this was touch for the sake of touch, the pleasure of skin on skin. She revelled in it, pressing herself closer to him as they walked. Seth would always look after you, she thought, always keep you safe and wanting for nothing. Not qualities she’d valued before. Danger had been more attractive, men like Harris and Nick, who offered cheap thrills and shining, shallow excitement.
But Seth, she sensed as he casually brushed his thumb back and forth over her fingers, Seth could give you something deeper. Something real.
There was a pool table inside the shed, surrounded by worn, comfy sofas. A CD player sat on top of a mini fridge that turned out to be full of beers. Someone switched the CD player on, and the kind of jerky, synthesised trance music Hannah had loved filled the shed. Two of the lads immediately set up a game of pool, while Seth pulled Lizzie down on one of the sofas, slinging his arm around her shoulders to pull her close to him.
“Do you play pool?” he asked.
“Badly,” she replied. “I’m more of a poker player.”
“No gambling for the Kurtadam,” Seth said solemnly. “Nuala doesn’t allow it.” She stared at him incredulously and he burst out laughing. “Not really. She loves a flutter on the horses. She’s addicted. It keeps her out of trouble, I suppose. I’m crap at poker,” he added. “I can never remember the rules.”
“I thought it was law that men are good at card games,” she joked, drawing her knees up onto the sofa so she was curled up against him. “
Real
men, anyway.”
He shook his head. “Can’t play poker, can’t play blackjack… you name it, I can’t play it.”
“Pool?” she asked, nodding to the table, where a red-haired boy sank a yellow ball with expert precision. Seth shook his head and she sighed in mock exasperation. “What can you do then?”
“Nothing I can reveal in public.” He tangled his fingers in her hair, the gesture maddeningly sensual, giving both Lizzie and the Other a few heated flashes of lust and need. She wondered if his own wolf was as close to the surface as hers, dancing for attention in the front of her mind. He lowered his head so his lips touched her cheek and whispered in her ear, “but I’d like to show you.”
She turned her head slightly, just enough to meet his lips in a shy, hesitant kiss. Deliberately chaste and soft, nothing more than glance of her mouth on his. “Oh yeah?”
For a brief, beautiful moment, the rest of the world fell away, and it was just her and Seth, the lingering taste of plums on his lips, the slow glide of his fingers through her hair, and the warmth of his breath on her skin. The real kiss was coming. She felt it like a break in the clouds, a ray of sunshine about to wash over her and fill her with light. And he wanted it, she could see that in his eyes, all dark and serious, full of intent. Lizzie waited, butterflies in her stomach, the Other in her head, yearning and eager and hoping…
And then someone broke into their little bubble. “New friend, Seth?”
Lizzie looked up, irritation dousing her desire. A slender blonde girl stood over them, arms folded, face like thunder. Lizzie vaguely recognised her. Seth sighed. “Go away, Ingrid.”
Ingrid, yes. She’d been with him the other night. She’d snapped at Lizzie. The Other remembered her, remembered not liking her.
“It’s a free house, isn’t it?” Ingrid shot back at him. “Open to all the Kurtadam, last time I checked. And now apparently open to any old mongrel who creeps in, too.” She sneered at Lizzie.
Lizzie’s irritation morphed into anger. Always so much easier to be angry. She wanted to tell Ingrid to fuck off, but bit her tongue. Everyone in the shed was watching them now, the pool game abandoned in favour of whatever drama might unfold here. Lizzie caught Tai’s eye; the other girl grimaced at her, telling her without words that Ingrid and Seth were hot gossip, that this confrontation was highly anticipated.
That crushed Lizzie’s urge to insult Ingrid even further. The last thing she wanted was to get caught up in some old grudge, some Kurtadam revenge scheme. She glanced at Seth. “Should I go?” she asked, amazed at how calm she sounded.
“No.” Seth gripped her hand, keeping his eyes on Ingrid. “You were invited here. Ingrid wasn’t.”
“Oh, so some scabby little Vargulf off the street is more welcome than me, is she?” Ingrid demanded. She looked over her shoulder at the rest of the room. “You know that’s what she is, right? Vargulf. An accident.”
“Better than being born a bitch, I suppose,” Lizzie said before she could stop herself.
Ingrid shot her a poisonous look, but quickly focused her attention back on Seth, who Lizzie could feel tensing more and more with each passing second. “I didn’t realise you’d dumped me so you could go slumming,” she said, tossing her pale hair haughtily. “I hope you got her checked for diseases first.”
Seth stood, towering over her. “That’s enough, Ingrid,” he growled. His eyes flashed red, and Lizzie thought she could see the wolf staring out at the other girl, warning her off. And yeah, okay. Anger made him just a little bit hotter, gave him a dark edge that Lizzie and the Other couldn’t help but like.
Ingrid looked past him to Lizzie, the girl’s elegant beauty ruined by the scowl plastered on it. “He’ll lose interest once he’s shagged you a few times, you know.”
“I said that’s enough.” Seth stepped in front of Lizzie, blocking her from Ingrid’s view. “Just leave it, alright?”
She shrugged, smoothing down her shimmering purple dress as if it was all the same to her. “Calm down, calm down,” she said in a mock-Scouse accent. “I’ll go and visit Nuala if you don’t want me interfering with little Eliza Dolittle here. I’m sure Nuala will be glad to see me.” She pouted at Seth and swished away in a cloud of flowery perfume that made Lizzie sneeze.
Her departure broke some spell on the room, and everyone went back to their previous engagements – drinking, dancing, playing pool, and pointedly not looking at Seth and Lizzie.
He fell back onto the sofa with a sigh, bristling with smothered anger. Lizzie rested her hand on his shoulder. “She seems ... nice,” she said.
“I’m sorry. She’s a bitch. She’s always a bitch.” He rubbed his jeans, frowning at the wooden floorboards. “Can we get out of here?” he asked her. “Just go for a walk or something? I need some fresh air.”
She nodded and they slipped out into the cool darkness. She led him over to the hidden pond and sat hugging her knees at the edge of the water, watching the shadowy fish flip and twist under the surface. Seth sat close to her, staring up at the slate-grey clouds shifting across the inky sky. “Are you alright?” she asked him after a few minutes of silence.
He shook his head, wind ruffling his hair. “Yeah, sorry. I wanted this to be a good evening.” He grunted. “I should have known she’d show up to wind me up.”
“Ex-girlfriend?” Lizzie guessed.
“We were never serious,” he said quickly. “Just casual, you know. On and off.” He made a flip-flop motion with his hand. “Then last year I got fed up of being on and off and just wanted to be off.”
“And she wants to be on,” Lizzie finished with a wry smile. She’d lost count of the number of times she and Harris had been on and off. She’d threatened to walk out on him countless times before ... Well. Before. He’d always managed to convince her to stay, one way or the other. Usually via drugs.
“You don’t have to worry about her,” Seth said. “She just enjoys stirring, that’s all.”
Lizzie shrugged and stared into the pond again. “It’s not my business.”
“It could be,” he said. “I mean, if you want it to be.”
She looked up at him, heart skipping. In the dark she couldn’t make out his expression, but she imagined it was that same intense, serious look he’d had when they’d nearly kissed. She wet her lips, painfully aware of how close they were, the shadowed hush surrounding them, the secret buzz you got when you knew you were about to kiss someone new, someone you really ached to kiss. “I’d like it to be my business,” she confessed softly, almost afraid to say it, afraid of the power it gave him.
Seth ran his fingers along her jaw, sliding them down her throat and turning her head gently towards him. She let him, leaning into him – too eager? Was this too eager, too soon? – wrapping her hand around his knee. He leaned his forehead against hers, brushing his nose across hers Eskimo-style, making her giggle, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d
giggled
, like a little girl on a fairground ride, bubbling over with giddy joy.
And then he kissed her, simple and deep and sweet.
She melted against him. He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and she yielded willingly, relishing the sensation of being held. His fingers caressed her hip through the slinky material of her dress, the motion firm and sensuous, once again spinning images of tangled bed sheets and fevered embraces through her mind.
Seth broke the kiss too soon, pulling away ever so slightly to whisper, “I like you, Lizzie.”
“I should think so,” she replied, fighting to catch her breath. “If you went around kissing every girl you picked up after a naked meeting in the park, I’d be pretty offended.”
He kissed her again, quick and teasing. “Not every girl, no.”
They sat in silence for a while, twined together, her head resting on his shoulder, his fingers trailing lazily up and down her spine. It was peaceful, relaxing, but it was arousing and exhilarating too. By the end of their relationship, she and Harris never did anything together unless they were high. Every perfunctory kiss or embrace was fuelled by pills, lacking any genuine affection.
She wasn’t sure how long they actually stayed like that, except that it didn’t feel long enough before noise poured out of the house as the back door was flung open. Someone leaned out into the garden and bellowed, “Seth! Put your new girlfriend down and come inside!”
They broke apart with a laugh, grinning stupidly at each other. “Shall we?” Seth asked, leaping up and offering her his hand.
She accepted his hand. “We shall.”
nineteen
B
ACK IN THE
kitchen, a spirited discussion was going on between Nuala and the guy who was either Desmond or Derrick. He was leaning across the table to point at Nuala, who rolled her eyes at him.
“We’d be slaughtered!” he was saying emphatically. “If a human with a gun caught one of us mid-shift, we’d be dead, no two ways about it. We’re superior once we’re in wolf shape, but we can’t shift fast enough to protect ourselves. It would be a massacre.”
“Oh, Desmond, don’t be so melodramatic,” Nuala snapped, waving him away. “It would never come to war. With patience and care, we could reveal ourselves safely and on our own terms.”