I smooth my hand over her leg. “I have a fetish for touching you, girl.”
“Same here.” She slides closer and snuggles against my side. “You smell good and that seems almost a breaking of the laws of physics.”
Damn, she’s sweet the way she does that—snuggles in. Sweet and pretty, and I am so horny.
We haven’t had sex for a week, and I know she knows why but it is agonizing to see her ass in the shower and not do anything.
“So,” she murmurs sleepily after few minutes. “Did you hear the gossip from Rasmus?”
“No? What’s he been saying? He’s working for the institute to repair weaknesses in their firewalls, or something? Which is all very good and helpful to them, but we should be playing devil’s advocate and watching them, or as much as we can.”
“I agree.” She lightly slaps my thigh in time with those words. “And if he keeps that job, Rasmus is on the inside. He said the place is buzzing over the whole alternate timeline slash world thing. They’re building new buildings, bringing in scientists, and he says that’s a bigger deal than you being possible. Frankenstructs and all.”
“I’m not surprised. I heard from Molly that it’s why they managed to call in intervention. She kinda said it in circles, with roundabouts and all. That woman knows how to obfuscate.”
“Obfuss what? Wash your dirty mouth out with soap, sir!” She laughs, and I poke her in the ribs. Which only makes her squeal and laugh some more, so I wrestle her back into place at my side. “You know, I figure they’re sleeper agents from another country.”
“The tea?” I grin down at her.
“The tea.” She taps her nose. “Dead giveaway. Secret MI6 agents, is my guess.”
For a while, I sit in silence. “No one is ever going to really say. Or not to us. What I was thinking more about is what is happening with Esau’s body? He’s not been buried, not been cremated. His body is still there.” We both know wherethereis. The institute.
“They agreed to getting consent before using anyone’s body.”
“And if he has no family?” Am I okay with that? “They made me without asking. I’m never going to trust them one hundred percent.”
“Yeah. I know. Aren’t we supposed to be being cheerful here? Oh my god, Squiggle Cat!”
After a week of absence, our favorite not-feline waltzes up the jetty, tail swaying. He…it nuzzles into both of our legs and gets patted thoroughly, sends us a piercing stare, then wanders to the edge of the jetty, and sits to study the ducks. A moment later he hops down off the jetty and vanishes. Into the kayak, I assume. To sleep there? If he starts paddling away, I’m not stopping him.
“The sheriff…” I say slowly.
“I saw him yesterday. He still has the mark, still acts weird. Maybe we should ask him to join the Weirdos?”
“Hell no.”
I’ll be watching him too. Has he copied my situation? Left half the brain intact so he, or it, can learn from the human that used to be the sheriff?Argh.Life is too short to worry about the small stuff. And the sheriff is small stuff in Revenant.
She explores my wrist, my severed wrist, with her fingers and says, “It’s healed fine.”
“It does look fine.” Head bent over it, she delicately traces her stitches around my wrist—done in doubled-up red embroidery cotton. “Melody’s were neater.”
“I heal no matter what, so long as the flesh is approximately in the right place.” I stroke her hair, enjoying the softness.
Hailey sighs and slips her hand along my thigh, sneaks it over to where my cock is already pulsing due to all this closeness.
“Girrrl,” I warn her.
It’s a mock warning because I’ve already decided it’s time. I found books on psychology, on therapy, on anything thatseemed helpful. Anything to tame what I call my demon self. If I could, I would’ve tried an actual psychologist, but that would be stretching the limits. I’d probably scare them to death.
I practiced while she was asleep, over and over, until I’m sure I can trust myself. The demon can sit at the back of my head and be good. Or be evil and stew. In some ways, the background thoughts seem to add fire to my desires.
“I want us to try again. I’ve been thinking, and you know I trust you.” She tilts back her head and meets my gaze. “You said you had a method, a way to make yourself safe to be with? So, should we?”
She leans down with her left hand and unclips her sheathed knife from her leg.
The knife rests across her palms like an offering. That tactical knife is not a toy. What does she intend to do?
