Redemption in stone, p.9
Redemption in Stone, page 9
She leaned in, the hand on his shoulder flexing as if she might pull him closer.
And then he blinked and straightened away. Taking a step back so fast she almost fell forward. She caught herself and wrapped both hands around the mug again as the shock of suddenly cool air hit her. She gave herself a mental shake, trying to get her brain working again.
“You must be hungry,” he said. “Give me a few minutes to get cleaned up and dressed. Then I’ll make us some breakfast.”
She opened her mouth, not sure what she wanted to say, but he was gone. Moving at shifter speed back into the house. So fast, the breeze from his movements ruffled the fine hairs on her brow that had escaped her braid.
Well. That hadn’t gone well. There’d been desire there, she was sure of it. When she thought back and analyzed his scent, she knew he’d felt that same attraction she had. But he’d rejected the feeling.
And it was getting harder and harder for her not to feel rejected as well.
Too soon, she reassured herself. That was all. They still had to get to know each other more. He obviously didn’t have a lot of experience with trust in his life. He probably didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust the attraction between them. That made sense. Wasn’t personal.
She repeated that to herself, her gaze on the surrounding pines, blinking rapidly as she finished her cooling coffee.
CHAPTER NINE
Adam climbed out of the shower, still cursing himself. Becca was under his roof because she’d been severely injured and because she needed time to heal. She needed help looking for a monster. And she knew nothing about him or his past.
Kissing her, giving in to that desire, would have been a huge mistake.
He’d been painfully aware of her attraction, the flavor of it rich and thick in her scent. A heady sweet smell, like melting chocolate, that had made conversation difficult. She’d been so careful to keep her gaze on his face, though. A reminder she wasn’t a shifter, even with that faint hint of wolf underneath her scent. That reminder had driven him a little closer to the brink. She didn’t know his status was compromised. She didn’t view him as a monster. And she wanted him.
Almost impossible to resist.
Her acceptance of his story about forgetting the spike, though… That’s what had truly wrecked him. She hadn’t assumed the worst, hadn’t even been upset. In fact, the flare of gratitude in both her eyes and her scent had curled around his chest like a warm hug. How was he supposed to resist her after that?
But she didn’t know him. It wouldn’t be fair to her to drag her into his life, into something that couldn’t go anywhere because of his past. When his present was still precarious.
The gathering pack north of here was a constant threat. He’d picked this house, this location because there were no werewolf packs in the area. But now, with a new one forming, establishing their territory so close to his…
That was a fight waiting to happen. One he couldn’t win. And it would mean moving. Again.
He didn’t want to risk Becca getting pulled into that mess. In any way. Letting her stay here this long probably wasn’t a smart decision. But he couldn’t just let her go back into the woods, hunting monsters while she still wasn’t fully recovered from her last encounter with the same type of monster. He had to help her. His every instinct, his very insistent wolf, pushed him to help her.
His wolf also wanted to keep her.
But that was impossible and even his wolf recognized that on some level. The wolf was just more stubborn about not resisting the impossible.
He toweled off, got dressed, and tried to quiet his wolf. First, he had to feed Becca. Then they’d start searching the grid they’d mapped out last night. And if they found another monster, they’d take care of it. If they didn’t, he’d let her go. Back to her life. Whatever that might be.
She was still outside when he came downstairs, though sitting on the steps of his porch now. Her attention was on the trees, the coffee mug still cradled in her hands.
He opened the back door, propping it open to let the cool morning air into the kitchen. “Would you like more coffee?” he asked.
She didn’t turn to face him. “I just got a second cup, so I’m good. Thank you.”
He wanted to say more, but the temptation to sit down next to her with his own coffee, stare at the trees with her, talk quietly about the day ahead… No. Couldn’t do that. Not allowed that kind of life anymore.
“Eggs and bacon okay for breakfast?”
“You don’t have to cook for me. I don’t want to put you to too much trouble.”
“You have to eat. You won’t finish healing or be able to fight monsters on an empty stomach.”
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to.”
A comment that begged for follow up questions. He resisted. His need to know everything about her would only get him into trouble. “Well as long as you’re under my roof, you won’t need to. Eggs and bacon? Do you like toast?”
“I’m easy going when it comes to food. Anything you make for yourself will be fine.” She finally glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. “Thanks.”
He took one step toward her, and that smile, before he caught himself. “You’re welcome.”
He retreated into the kitchen, running through the ritual of breakfast, working hard not to think too much about Becca sitting right outside on his porch. Or the drive to ensure she ate and rested. The instinct to look after her and keep her safe. That was his wolf talking, the bastard, and he didn’t want to acknowledge how desperately he wanted the right to take care of Becca.
When he had large plates full of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and toast ready, he called her inside. “Unless you want to eat on the porch?”
“Table is fine.”
She set her coffee cup down and sat in the same seat she had last night. He only had two chairs at his table, and that only because he’d felt too pathetic with only one. Thankful he didn’t have to drag in the rocking chair from the porch for her, he waited for her to take her first few bites before he started his own breakfast.
“This is excellent,” she said, her eyes wide. “You’re a really good cook.”
He had to work hard not to puff up his chest and preen at the compliment. “It was either learn how to cook or eat food out of boxes. I like this better.”
She smiled. “Me too. Though I’m not a very good cook. I can scramble eggs if push comes to shove. But the bacon would have been beyond my skill set.”
For some reason, that surprised him. She seemed so capable he’d just assumed she could do anything.
“I can bake a mean chocolate chip cookie, though,” she said, her smile growing. “Maybe I can make you some. Pay you back for doing the cooking.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It would be fun.” Her smile dimmed a little. “If we have time.” She scooped up more eggs and ate quietly for a few moments. Then, “Did you see any signs of a monster on your run?”
“Nothing in the immediate area.” He frowned. “How did you know I was out scouting already?”
“This is your territory, right? I don’t know a lot about shifters, but I assumed you’d want to check the area. Make sure nothing was happening too close to your home.”
That she got that, despite not knowing much about shifters, did strange things to him. A settling and calming in his chest that he hadn’t felt since leaving his pack. He wasn’t even sure why her comment sparked that feeling.
“If you do come across signs of the other irgotoc while I’m not around,” she said, her expression hesitant, “I’d ask that you not try to engage it without me. I know this is your territory to defend. I get that. But… Well, I’m the one who hunts monsters. It’s what I do.” She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say more, then closed it and shrugged.
“I won’t fight the thing alone unless it attacks me first. Fair enough.”
Her shoulders dropped with her exhale. “Thank you. Yes. That’s…that’s good.” She winced. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take that request.”
“This irgotoc is the first thing like it I’ve ever come across. I don’t mind deferring to an expert.”
That earned him one of her huge smiles, which warmed his chest and almost, almost made him forget she wasn’t his.
“So you know, if you do come across one while I’m not there, you have to remove its head. That’s true with all monsters. If you don’t remove the head, completely, they’ll just keep coming. They can take a lot of damage, too. And as you saw with the irgotoc’s acid blood, they have some pretty substantial defenses.” She winced when she said, “The irgotoc aren’t picky about what they eat. They’ll devour anything they come across. But all monsters aim for humans. It’s… It’s why they were created.”
“You said a god creating them?”
“Ne, yes.”
“Why?”
“Retribution against his brother En for coming down on the side of humans against Ne when Ne wanted to destroy humanity. It pissed Ne off that his brother chose humans over him. Didn’t help that En won the war against Ne when Ne initially tried to wipe humans off the earth.” She waved a hand. “Long story.”
“I’d like to hear it. These aren’t stories I’ve heard before. Though, to be fair, I’ve never given any gods much thought. Not a big believer in them. Didn’t consider any of them might really exist.”
“Old gods exist. They were…are a pain in the ass, but they exist.”
He chuckled. “You going to get into trouble for saying that?”
“No. They know they’re a pain in the ass.” She paused to crunch on some bacon and make happy sounds. Then, “Not that I’ve met an actual god. Not even the ones who created my Family, all the Families. But I believe the story of our origin.”
“Why?”
She turned her attention back down to her food. “Part of that long story. But we can talk about that later. First, you need to remember the thing about removing a monster’s head.”
“Got it. Can I rip their heads off with my bare hands, or do I need to use a specific weapon?”
He half expected the blunt violence of his comment to give her pause. It didn’t. She didn’t even stop eating.
“No specific weapon for most of them. Swords are the easiest. Which is why I carry that and a dagger. Guns cause damage but aren’t precise enough to remove the heads completely. And it has to be a complete severing. If that doesn’t happen, you just end up with a pissed off monster.” She frowned a little at her food. “There are some…beings that require specific weapons to kill them. But in general, with most of the monsters, you just have to get their heads off. Any way you can. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds.”
“It doesn’t sound easy at all.”
“Worse when the head isn’t obvious.”
“There are monsters without obvious heads?”
“Mm hmm. Tricky bastards.”
All this made his own head spin. What a world she lived in. A world he hadn’t even known existed. Was this what humans felt when they discovered werewolves were real? “What other things besides acid blood and poisoned tail spikes do I have to look out for with the irgotoc?”
“Their regenerating limbs. That’s new. I mentioned that?”
He nodded.
“So you may or may not make progress toward decapitating them by removing the tentacles. It’ll help a little, though. Just watch out for the blood. And the suction cups on their tentacles, those will attach to any bare skin they can reach and burn. Damned painful. The shock of it can kill as fast as their other deadly attributes. Especially since removing them once they attach can be so difficult.” She narrowed her eyes. “Shifters heal fast. Do you heal faster when you change forms or does that make a difference?”
“Speeds things up. Why?”
“Makes sense,” she mumbled. Like she was talking to herself. Then she gave herself a rough shake and looked up at him again. “If necessary, how often can you shift? It takes time for the process itself, but do you need…hours between shifts or can you go back and forth?”
“Depends on the shifter. Species and individual. The stronger the shifter, the faster and more often they can go between forms.”
She nibbled her bottom lip and gave him a narrow-eyed look. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be offended.
He settled on amusement. “You really want to ask me if I’m a strong shifter or not, don’t you?” he said. And delighted when a wash of pink colored her cheeks.
“Well, I was trying not to. But yes. I do need to ask. It’s important I know what you can and can’t do on a hunt.”
“You saw my shift earlier. And the other night. Those weren’t my top speeds. I can shift faster if I have to. But those were comfortable for me.”
If he had to, he could shift as fast as his brother, which was significantly faster than most of the rest of his former pack. Which was one of the reasons his brother was the alpha. But he didn’t want to bring up his brother or his former pack so he didn’t mention that out loud. Despite his wolf wanting to boast and impress her with his strength.
“And how often can you shift?”
“As often as I need to.” Grudgingly, he admitted, “Too often, I will wear out, get exhausted. But I’d really have to push to reach that. I could easily go wolf again now. Then human again a few minutes later. And that wouldn’t bother me.”
She let out a long breath. “Oh that’s good. Good. So if you get injured, you can shift and heal faster, no matter what form you’re in.”
Her relief at knowing he had a way to heal quickly if he got hurt in a fight left him feeling much too happy. That she might care if he got hurt, that she cared if he died, wasn’t something he was used to anymore. Except for his brother and sister, any wolves he encountered now would actively want him dead.
But, he reminded himself again, she wasn’t a shifter. Whatever that hint of wolf in her, she wasn’t like him and didn’t know wolf shifters well enough to understand where he stood in that world.
He winced inwardly and ran a hand up through his hair. While they were discussing strengths and weaknesses, he should warn her about that danger. If they ran across other werewolves, there’d be a fight. Especially since the new pack had moved into the area. But he didn’t want to admit any of that to her. Didn’t want to watch her acceptance fade and die. He liked her thinking well of him. And he wanted to keep that gift for just a little while longer.
She held his gaze for a moment before ducking her head and returning to what remained of her food. He only realized then how much and how fast she’d eaten. Like a shifter. What was she? So much about her reminded him of other shifters, and yet she wasn’t one. So what was she exactly? What did that hint of wolf in her scent mean?
“Outside of acid blood, barbed limb spikes, suction cups that burn, and a mean attitude,” she went back to the irgotoc, “the female will be larger than the male, and will have working wings. Or…at least they used to.” She raised her hands in a little shrug. “I’m giving you what I know from the original species, but since they seem to have evolved…”
“Guess work.”
“Guess work,” she said with a slight nod. “It’ll have to do. If there’s a female, it’ll likely have wings that work.”
“Can it perch in trees? Will we have to worry about ambush from above?” His wolf instincts both appreciated that predator advantage and saw the dangers in it if he was the one being stalked.
“Should be too big. The females are…or were a lot larger than the males. It would take an awfully big tree with very strong branches to hold an adult female irgotoc.”
“There are some huge spruce trees in this area,” he pointed out. Not the largest in the world. That was over in the Olympics. But still, some pretty huge trees.
“When I say the female is larger than the male, I mean a lot larger. That monster the other day was tiny compared to a female irgotoc.”
“Fucking hell.” He blinked. The irgotoc she’d killed had been a pretty big beast, the size of a grizzly but with tentacles and a long tail. “How big, exactly?”
“Five, six times the size of the male.”
Which would make the female the size of a yellow school bus. “With tentacles and talons and suction cups and a spiked tail and acid blood?”
“Plus the huge wings.”
“How the hell can the female fly and the male, which is smaller, ended up with vestigial wings?”
“Got me. I didn’t make them.” She frowned, her brow creasing. “Ne has a weird sense of humor?”
The fact that she talked about a god like he might still be walking around was pretty terrifying. He sort of hoped this Ne had faded away with time or whatever happened when old gods died.
“The irgotocs were one of the earliest monsters Ne and the Slain Heroes—sort of monsters themselves—created. Not the worst. Not the very first. But it’s a species that’s been around for a long time.”
“Not the worst?”
“No real intelligence. Just an all-consuming instinct for eating and killing. The smart monsters are the ones you really have to worry about. When En’s Seven Families proved capable of destroying the instinct-driven monsters, Ne created smarter creatures, ones that could use reason and logic, and think their way toward killing better.”
She said all this with a sort of distracted air, her gaze mostly turned inward like she was thinking of something other than the conversation.
“What’s bothering you?” he asked.
She blinked and refocused on him. “Not sure. Something started nagging me when I said I hadn’t created the irgotocs, but I’m not sure what’s bothering me. Something about the fact that the irgotocs seem to have evolved, and evolved more deadly attributes…”
“Don’t monsters normally evolve?”
