“That’s what I like to hear.” Tobias gives him a thumbs up. “Now, get in, loser, we’re going… wolfing?”
“You’re the worst boss,” Cody says, and flees into the room. He yanks the door closed on Tobias’s laughter—and his own helpless grin.
Fuck. He really lucked into the best college roommate. Sometimes it’s easy to remember why he thought friendship and a job would be enough to replace the pack bond.
Unfortunately, his younger self had been wrong. Better put away his cell phone, just in case. Cody kneels at the wooden chest and flips open the fiddly latch. Opposable thumbs required. He lifts the lid and pauses.
All he’d packed were spare clothes, but now there’s also a tablet in a sturdy case and half a dozen books. The assortment is eclectic—mystery, fantasy, self-help, play scripts.
A sticky note on the tablet case reads:Don’t worry about ruining these. They’re very cheap, and I’m very wealthy.
Touching the note, Cody wants to feel warm. Grateful. But the kind gesture perversely makes him lonelier. A door between him and his…
Cody shoves to his feet and keeps moving. Pacing. The gray walls swallow his footsteps.
Simon isn’t pack. He’s a vampire. Cody’s barely known him a month, and that month is barely a blink in Simon’s long life. Cody doesn’t have a pack, and he’s never belonged anywhere since he left for a boy who didn’t love him back.
Atwood Security is a career, not a family. Simon Caley is an assignment. As soon as the threat is cleared, Cody will leave.
Or worse,he’ll stay.
Until Simon tires of him. Until ancient enmities or petty differences shatter their bond. Until mismatched lifespans wrench them apart. Whether he leaves sooner or later, Cody will be alone. Just like he is right now.
Even underground, in a room without windows, the lonely emptiness inside Cody fills with moonlight.
He staggers, a growl ripping from a changing throat. When his hands hit the ground, they aren’t hands anymore. The shift is a full-body blink, and Cody shudders into himself. Claws settle comfortably. His tail sways as he shakes off torn fabric.
He’s a wolf. Like he should be.
But he shouldn’t be caged, nor wreathed in the scent of cold blood. Alone. Human explanations feel distant, unimportant. Frustration drives Cody forward, shoulder slamming into the horrible door.
Which breaks open. It isn’t latched.
Chapter 19
Simon
A text message buzzes in. Simon’s hope is a worn-down habit, already crumbling before he reads the message. Sure enough. Another dead end from the Broken Cross guest book. Simon sends a polite,Thank you regardless.
Then he sets his phone aside to continue exploring Cody’s room.
There isn’t much to see. An array of computer monitors crowds the desk, and luggage huddles in the closet. Dirty clothes pile in a hamper that Simon doesn’t remember owning, nor does he remember Cody bringing it in. Otherwise, the off-white walls and simple furnishings are the same as ever.
Except the warm, living scent that clings to every particle of air. Everything else smells sweeter with the blend—mint toothpaste. Gardenia detergent. Cody’s scent has settled possessively into the room.
Simon inhales, though he doesn’t need the breath. The taste is a strangely soothing luxury.
Werewolves are territorial. Perhaps Cody will be annoyed at Simon poking through his things. Hopefully he is. Annoying Cody is fun. Simon traces the plastic keyboard. Imagining Cody’s clenched jaw eases Simon’s own disquiet.
Simon is territorial, too, and he dislikes tonight’s intruder. Not through any fault of Tobias Atwood’s. The man seems polite and competent enough for a human. But he’s a stranger in Simon’s home. As much as Simon craves companionship, he craves privacy and control, too. His preferred lifestyle does not include an unknown human lounging in one of his libraries.
Even worse, perhaps. Tobias’s interruption makes Simon far too aware of how much he likes his current situation.
Cody isn’t an intruder anymore. His presence is comfortable, like a too-large sweater, and it happened so fast. A mere month that Simon has tried to stretch longer than the scant mortal heartbeats it spans.
He suspects Cody feels the same. That’s why they haven’t kissed since that dance in the library. Or even talked about it.
If they kiss again, they might grow closer. If they talk, they might break apart. Simon isn’t sure which he fears more. Cody has been so kind. Attentive beyond the obligations of his job. Cody makes Simon’s home safer, more personal, than when Simon lives alone.
