At a sudden flare of anger and hurt from Oliver’s end of the tether, Felipe stifled a wince and forced back his emotions. He didn’t want to give DeSanto’s wolf any reason to come out, even if he looked more stable than he had moments ago. Distantly, a woman’s voice carried through the heavy stillness and the hiss of the radiator pipes. They needed to get moving before Miss Patel came down and found DeSanto a mess. Giving DeSanto a solid pat on the shoulder, Felipe motioned for him to follow him back through the stacks.
“Look at it this way: you aren’t behind on becoming an investigator; learning to control your powers is merely giving you extra time to figure out what you want to do and what you’re good at. When I first arrived, I immediately became an investigator because I thought fighting monsters was all I was good for, and sometimes, I wish I hadn’t.”
Felipe stopped just short of the stairs as what he said fully hit him. He opened his mouth to take it back when he found DeSanto regarding him with furrowed brows as if seeing him for the first time.
“Really?”
“I don’t regret my time as an investigator, but now that I’m older, I sometimes wonder what other paths I could have taken if given the chance,” Felipe replied, giving DeSanto a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Once you become an investigator, it’s very hard to change positions. I think it’s better to try other things and see if there’s something you would like to do more before committing to it. There are less regrets that way.”
“I guess, but I still need to figure out how to control my shifting before I lose my job.”
“If you can bear with me for another day or two, I think I have an idea. Tonight, I’m going to an event with Dr. Barlow, and I’m pretty sure Theo Bisclavret and Bennett Reynard will be there. They’re shifters, a wolf and a fox, and both have spent a lot of time working with other shifters. If anyone knows how to help you get your powers under control, it would be them.”
“Would I need to join a pack?”
“No. Bisclavret isn’t associated with any of the local packs. He’s originally from Louisiana, I believe. He actually works in the greenhouses. When I see him, I’ll tell him about your problem and ask if he can meet with you. I’m sure between all of us, we can find a way to get your shifting under control, but no matter what, it won’t be fixed immediately. Do you think you can deal with it a little longer?”
DeSanto nodded, a small glimmer of hope brightening his features. “Thank you, Inspector Galvan. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
“Don’t mention it. Just do me a favor and try not to burn the candle at both ends. It only makes it harder to control your powers,” Felipe said.
As the younger man grumbled about making one more delivery on his way to visit his mother, Felipe nudged him up the steps. He moved to follow DeSanto when a searing wave of anger burned so brightly across the tether that he nearly tripped on the next step. He let his attention sink to Oliver’s side of the tether, but there were no tugs for help or waves of chest-tightening fear, only a tight cord of anxiety. Felipe half-listened to DeSanto prattle on about his grandmother’s cooking and the man he was talking to about college courses while he kept the rest of his attention on Oliver. He would go find Oliver as soon as he could, but he knew his partner would understand why he would wait until he was sure DeSanto was stable enough to leave unsupervised.
By the time he reached Miss Patel’s desk in the main room, the undercurrent of anxiety had grown into wave after wave of chaos battering against the tether. Felipe stammered out what DeSanto needed help with, but neither DeSanto or Miss Patel seemed to notice. He watched the tension ease from the younger man’s features as she explained to him how to find the information he had been sent for. Felipe had only taken a step back from the desk when an icy grey sluice of panic-laden desolation slid through the tether and down his spine. As he focused on the weight under his heart, Oliver tugged the tether twice.
Chapter Twelve
Choices and Consequences
Oliver’s brain roared like a runaway train. It had jumped the tracks and gone speeding ahead into the abyss the moment the library door closed behind him and reality hit him. Heneededto talk to Felipe. If he didn’t find him soon, Oliver was certain he would explode or turn into a puddle of tears and that would take far too long to become coherent again after, and they had plans in a few hours. The rational part of his brain that was hanging on for dear life reminded him that the archives were closer to the library than their apartment, but Oliver couldn’t handle the thought of having to explain to anyone why he was half a second from hysterics, and then have to ask, “Oh, by the way, do you know where Felipe Galvan is?” He just hoped that Felipe had already finished his task and come upstairs.
Stuffing down his emotions as best he could, Oliver bolted up the back steps and barreled down the hall. From the way people sidestepped him and gave him sideways glances as he passed, he knew he was doing a pisspoor job of hiding his feelings, but he didn’t care as long as Gwen didn’t see him. He couldn’t speak to her right now knowing Turpin had asked her to become an anchorite too. They had talked right after she spoke to him, and she had said nothing about it, not even to warn him it was coming. Oliver didn’t know whether to be hurt or angry with her. Worst of all, he didn’t know how he wouldface her when his answer was no. He would never stop her from becoming an anchorite. She could do so much good. But in less than three years, their lives would start to diverge, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that.
Oliver bit his lip hard enough to taste blood as he fumbled his key into the apartment door. The second it opened, he knew he was alone. Felipe filled a space with his presence, and his absence in their apartment nagged at Oliver like a missing tooth. No Felipe… Or no Gwen. Oliver leaned back against the door and sucked in a ragged breath, followed by another as his body finally caught up to the panic streaming through his brain. The conversation with Turpin ran through his mind in a tangled loop. Turpin was near immortal. Turpin had been alive since the 1700s. Turpin wanted him and Gwen to take his place in shaping the society, and in the process, his worst nightmare would come true.Turpin was near immortal. Oliver’s chest tightened with each wheezed breath until he could scarcely breathe and spots danced in front of his eyes. He needed to sit before he passed out.
Sinking to the rug, Oliver put his head between his knees and tried, unsuccessfully, to suck in a longer breath. As he sat back, his eyes snagged on a slightly miscolored patch of fabric on the rug, and Oliver’s misery turned to icy panic. His chest heaved with half-sobbed breaths at the months old bloodstain and the image of Felipe that flashed behind his eyes. He hadn’t been able to save him then. He had and he hadn’t, and he couldn’t bear the thought of living without him again. As if sensing his thoughts, Felipe gently pressed against the tether. Oliver pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He didn’t want to bother Felipe, but he wasn’t okay. Nothing made sense anymore, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw the bloodstained past and a hypothetical future he didn’t want to come true.
Oliver focused on the weight under his heart that connected him to Felipe. He needed him. He desperately needed to see him and feel him solidly under his hands to know he was healthy and whole and that what his mind conjured up wasn’t real. With a desperate suck of wet breath, Oliver gave the tether two tugs forI need you. He had barely shut his eyes when Felipe sent a quick tug followed by a swirl of concern. Relief warred with shame as Oliver pawed at his cheeks. He needed to pull himself together; he couldn’t be this much of a mess when Felipe arrived. Shrinking back against the armchair, Oliver drew in long, slow breaths and inhaled the comforting scent of Felipe’s aftershave clinging to the fabric. He grounded himself in the smell before pushing his toes down, expecting to feel the familiar pile of the rug only to recoil.
Oliver stared down in horror at his feet. He had worn his dirty shoes on the carpet. He had carelessly contaminated their apartment. What little control he had managed to gain over his spiraling brain broke as he bit back a sob. He pulled off one shoe and threw it blindly in the direction of the coatrack. His eyes clotted with tears as he worked at the knot on the second shoe, but as he flung it away from him, the door opened, batting the shoe into the wall. Felipe eyed the errant shoe before tracing its path back to where Oliver sat huddled against the armchair. Oliver quickly turned away, but he still saw the way Felipe’s eyes widened in panic when he saw him. How had he let this go so wrong?
“Christ almighty,” Felipe said as he dropped beside him. His hand hovered as if he wanted to touch Oliver but didn’t dare risk it. Instead, his eyes raked over his face and body for the source of his pain. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
Oliver shook his head. His chest hitched and guilt clogged his throat at the naked concern on his partner’s features. Heshouldn’t have called Felipe away from what he was doing to stamp out his morbid thoughts.
“Just an attack of nerves,” Oliver tried to say blithely, even as each word was punctuated by a suck of breath. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, Felipe. I shouldn’t have—”
“You should have, and you’re not fine,” Felipe replied firmly as he held his gaze.
Oliver clamped his mouth shut at the heat gathering behind his eyes, but a pained squeak still escaped.
“Sssh, sssh, it’s okay. I have you. Can I touch you?” When Oliver nodded, Felipe rubbed his arms in long, firm strokes, though his eyes still searched his form. “Oh, love, you’re shaking.”
Oliver didn’t know when hyperventilating had turned to teeth-chattering shaking, but he couldn’t help it. His brain still felt full of bees, and everything was wrong. His thoughts tumbled over each other, crashing and careening away before he could make sense of them. Nothing made sense. Felipe rubbed his arms and regarded him with deepening concern when it didn’t help. Reaching into his pocket, Felipe took out his notebook and set it down beside Oliver along with a pencil.
“Oliver, what happened?” he asked softly as he pushed the notebook closer. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”
Oliver’s hand tightened around the pencil as he stared at the blank page. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what would help or if anything could. Nothing could take away what he already knew. Oliver shut his eyes. He knew he needed to tell Felipe. He wanted to, but every time he tried, his brain sputtered and his thoughts scattered like billiard balls until all that remained was an undercurrent of pain. He couldn’t even parse out what hurt anymore. Sadness, anger, and fear churned inside him in equal measure until they blended together into a maelstrom that drowned out all else and threatened to pull him under. Oliver bithis lip to hold in the illogical sob that threatened to come out as Felipe felt along the tether. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but worry Felipe.
