Wolven, p.5
Wolven, page 5
“Did you get knocked around last night?” I asked him. Tristan was famously hot-headed, but the hickey I spotted on his neck implied something friskier. I poked at the purplish bruise with a chuckle. “Looks like a good one. Who gave it to you?”
“You don’t remember?” Tristan asked, glancing at me with a smirk.
I turned to Baxter, who looked vaguely uncomfortable like he always did when we asked him to fill in the blanks of our drunken fiascos. “Who was it? I’d say it’s a Cathy-size hickey, right? From the soccer team.” In the rearview mirror, Elsie’s half-brushed bun flopped up and down excitedly. I settled back into the seat next to her. “It was Cathy?”
“Oh, I don’t actually know,” Elsie said. “But I do think Cathy from the soccer team would leave a hickey that size. Especially now that she’s on Varsity! I’m sure she knows the way around a ball or two as well, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re starting to sound a little jealous, Jade,” Tristan taunted me from the front. “Maybe we should spend some time in bed together and see if that jogs your memory.”
It wasn’t so much the idea of sex with Tristan—we’d fucked more times than I bothered to count. But today my immediate thought was the curve of Clay’s back, and the smell of him on the pillow next to me. The red heat in my face was half embarrassment, half fear that Elsie might blurt something about whose bed I’d woken up in.
“Lunch is on me today,” Tristan announced as he rolled his car into our usual spot. His seatbelt snapped back to its holder, nearly whacking Elsie in the nose as she climbed out from the back seat. “I got paid yesterday with a surprise bonus, so we don’t even have to share shakes.”
The door’s welcome bell jingled our arrival to the near-empty diner. Before I could step beyond the threshold, Tristan’s sudden stop bumped me back onto concrete. I stood onto my toes to peer around his shoulder and see what his deal was.
Ms. Marrieta minded our corner booth for us, especially on Saturdays. But when it was already occupied, Ms. Marrieta made sure to add an extra cookie or order of fries to our meal to placate Tristan’s territorial grumbling. If it had been any other group of people sitting in our usual place, that would have been enough.
But it had to be them.
As soon as I made eye contact with Coal he lifted his jacket sleeve in a wave. He was squished into the booth with a handful of his own, though none of them seemed uncomfortable or wanting for personal space. They were mid-meal and mid-conversation, but Coal’s excited greeting threw their attention our way for the briefest of moments.
I didn’t need to see Clay sitting there in the corner, watching me; I could feel his gaze, just as intense as this morning. I made a point to avoid the soft inquiry his face expressed, slipping around Tristan and taking his arm to get him to budge. Elsie and Baxter had already picked out another spot by the front windows.
“If I get a strawberry shake will you share it with me anyways?” I asked Tristan, sitting him beside me.
Baxter scanned the menu as if he’d order anything other than the mac n’ cheese with a side of the potato soup that he always got. The look on his face said he was holding his tongue on behalf of someone’s best interest.
“Of course,” Tristan said, brushing my cheek with his thumb. He scowled teasingly. “But you’re only asking so you can have some of mine, too, right?”
“I just want a little,” I said, motioning with my fingers. “A dollop of vanilla.”
“Yeah, we know,” Elsie said with an exaggerated sigh. “Tristan more than most.”
With a chuckle, Tristan leaned back in his chair just enough to drape his arm over the back of mine. Elsie and I shared a bemused glance; we all knew Tristan well enough to know what the wheels in his head were turning over. There was a reason we’d made sure his chair didn’t face Clay’s group in the back. Still, neither of us would say anything aloud with Tristan’s temperature a fine line from boiling.
We’d already placed our order when Coal passed by my shoulder. He didn’t try to call my attention again as his group filed out of the diner. I didn’t give it a second thought until Tristan hadn’t started shaking the table with his bouncing knee.
“Someone get the spray bottle ready,” Baxter sighed.
“That would be Jade,” Elsie said to the screen of her phone. “We may need to get this to go if Tristan can’t chill his grill.”
We expected an explosion. Tristan wasn’t much for a slow burn, though he’d already managed to get through so far without bursting. So when Tristan wolf-whistled at the last girl of their group to pass by, I couldn’t immediately guess what he was playing at. The girl turned to look at him, eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Welcome to town,” Tristan told her with a wolfish half-smile.
“Tristan, she’s literally holding this dude’s hand,” Elsie hissed at him.
“Oh, that’s alright,” the girl’s boyfriend said, tossing an amused glance at Clay behind him. “He probably can’t see past that shiner there, poor boy.”
“C’mon, Flint,” Clay warned his friend. He stood close enough for me to feel the vibration of his voice.
Flint couldn’t help himself, clearly amused to see Tristan’s jaw grind. “Can’t imagine what the other guy looks like.”
And then they were out the door. Beneath the table, Tristan’s leg had gone still. I might have breathed a sigh of relief for the whole thing to be over if it weren’t for the twitch in his jaw that announced a chord had been struck.
“Please don’t—”
My attempted plea was no match for the harsh scrape of Tristan’s chair against linoleum.
The harsh scrape of Tristan’s chair against the linoleum cut off my attempted plea. My fragile hung-over brain screeched in a protest of its own at the sound. By the time I managed to get out of my own chair, Tristan was already outside.
“Hey!” Tristan’s call bubbled with malice. I tried to grab his hand, but he shoved me off, closing the distance between himself and Flint, who turned to greet him with that taunting grin.
Whatever Tristan meant to do was poorly planned. Flint struck first, sending Tristan back a distance as he stumbled. With a curse, Tristan swung back. Flint wound up to meet him halfway with his own fist until Clay grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him out of Tristan’s range. Clay barely managed to avoid Tristan’s second wild throw, and retaliated with a more commanding shove to Tristan’s shoulders. It sent Tristan straight to his ass.
"That's enough," Clay snapped at Tristan, who stayed down on the asphalt like a beat dog. The muscles in Clay’s shoulder were taut, his blue-grey eyes wild with defense. He looked over his shoulder at his friend. "Get in the fucking car, Flint."
Flint smirked down at Tristan before backing off with his hands lifted in mock defeat.
With the worst of their physical bullshit over, I moved to pull Tristan away from Clay and out of swinging range. I grabbed his chin to check the bleeding from his nose, but Tristan’s pride couldn’t handle another slight. His irritated shove sent me back towards Clay, who caught me at the waist.
“I’m fine,” I said instinctively. I could see the sharp reprimand on Clay’s tongue for Tristan, which I knew would only set him off all over again. Clay let me go without further prompting, dipping his head without saying a word.
“You gonna kidnap Jade again?” Tristan spat when I lingered too close to Clay for too long.
“I didn’t kidnap her,” Clay said. “She chose to spend the evening with me. She can chose again. She’s more than welcome to come with us...” Finally, he leveled his gaze to mine. His cool expression stuttered my heart, sending chills down the length of my spine. “If you want, that is.”
"Seriously?" Elsie appeared at the curb with Baxter, both of them carrying take-out bags. "That's what this is about? You're fighting over last night? Omigod, Tristan, we were all hammered and horny—who the fuck cares what Jade’s main course was."
Tristan watched me without a word. I had half a mind to snap at him for it, but he wasn’t the only one. Elsie and Baxter waited for me to say something, and I could see the windows of Clay’s car rolled down. The faces of his friends peered out of them, their attention was like a sunburn to my face. Worse than getting that bat tattooed on the underside of my tit five months ago.
All of them, waiting for my answer.
"I, uh..." I tucked myself farther into my jacket and let out a huff. "This is stupid. I'm walking home."
No verbal objection followed me as I departed. I felt a smidge of guilt for having left them like that, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? The logical choice might have been to get back in Tristan’s truck, but there was something about Clay I couldn't immediately reject. Better to equally disappoint everyone, fuming away in my short dress and a pounding hangover, shivering my ass off.
I’d made it a block and a half from the plaza when Clay’s car parked up along the sidewalk to catch my attention. I knew it was him before he even rolled down the window. Seems he wasn’t satisfied with disappointment.
I kept to the far edge of the curb, trying to decide whether or not his insistence was obsessive or endearing.
"Are you sure you don’t need a ride home?" Clay offered, a half-smile on his lips. I blinked at him, then tilted my head to look past him at the girl sitting in the passenger seat. Something about the way that she looked at me felt slightly uncomfortable. Did she look hostile? Or scared, maybe?
I glanced down the street, rolling my ankle a bit to test my sensitivity. The thought of walking in the chill another twelve blocks back to my house was unappealing, but not nearly so as much as being shoved into Clay’s oversized SUV with all his other friends. Not after having just woken up ass-naked in his bed barely a few hours ago, and especially not after the bullshit Tristan just tried against them.
“Thank you, but I’m fine. It’s a nice walk.”
"It’s 38 outside,” Clay noted, his fingers tightening around the wheel.
Something right then made me laugh. Maybe it was the giant, high-profile of the car he drove. Maybe it was the look of 'what-the-fuck-are-you-doing' on the girl's face that finally clicked. Or maybe I was actually managing to convince myself that I might say yes.
“The walking will keep me warm,” I decided, steeling myself for that shadow of longing that flitted hyper-quick against Clay’s expression. I pulled my jacket closer against my involuntary shivering, seeing Clay’s eyebrow lift at my body’s betrayal. Before he could say anything, I added, “Also... I’m sorry about Tristan. I know he can be a dick, but I appreciate you taking it easy on him. Thank you.”
Clay’s smile faltered. Even more so when the window behind his began to roll down, revealing the rest of his party in the car. Flint leaned out the window, waving at me without the slightest hint of remorse. I bit my tongue, but he didn’t seem to be holding a grudge... so I supposed I shouldn’t, either.
"Tell me something," Flint said. His smile seemed genuine enough. "Is your boyfriend always so quick to throw a fit?" His window began to roll up again, and Flint looked over at Clay in alarm. He reached to shove Clay's hand away from the control on the front door, and then rolled his window back down. "C'mon, man. It’s a fair question; I just need to know if I should avoid him at school."
Clay rolled his eyes, but didn't try to censor Flint again. His attention lifted off and away, leaving me to Flint’s sardonic mercy.
"Tristan isn't my boyfriend," I told Flint. He shrugged, flashing me a tilt of his eyebrows that said he didn’t believe me. I frowned. "He's not. We just... I mean, we're close. We've been through a lot together. But he's not my boyfriend."
"Sure, sure," Flint nodded, “but that doesn't answer my question."
"Oh," I huffed, feeling my face go red. "Uh, yeah. Yes, Tristan’s got a temper. It's kind of his thing. That's why he likes football, he can just... take out his anger on the ball. Or whatever. I could tell you to avoid him at school, but based on your personal decisions this morning, it looks like I’ll be the one helping Tristan avoid you."
Flint chuckled, satisfied with my answer. He glanced at the others in the car, who were watching his showboating with mixed expressions of irritation and concern. Even Coal’s face burned with embarrassment, half hidden behind his oversize sleeves.
"Alright, alright," he crooned, unbothered, and leaned back in his seat. "He certainly is a piece of work, I'll tell you that. Throws like a motherfu—"
"Flint," Clay snapped. "Knock it off. Christ."
"It's fine," I laughed, nodding at Flint. "Hey—Clay?" He looked over at me, his expression guarded. This was new to his face: the straight line of his brow set against an anticipated attack. Feeling guilty for my own defensiveness, I told him, "Thanks for the ride offer. Really. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome," he said, and turned his gaze back to the steering wheel.
"Uh... yeah," I murmured. His sudden disengagement stung deeper than I wanted it to. I ran my fingers through my hair and turned to those in the back seat. I held out my hand. "I'm Jade, by the way. For formal introduction purposes.”
"Jade's a nice name," Flint leaned out the window again to take my hand. "Nice and natural. Best kinds of names." He looked back over his shoulder at the others who had yet to speak up since Clay pulled over. "That's Rowan and Nova. You know Coal, don’t you? Sitting up there next to Clay is April."
"I remember Rowan," I nodded. From between Flint and Coal, Rowan waved awkwardly at me. “Well, sort of. Sorry again about Elsie. I do know Coal—” Coal returned my smile with cherry red cheeks. “It’s nice to meet the rest of you. Your parents... they’re pretty lax on the whole scene, huh?”
"Something like that," Rowan answered through tight lips. His put a hand on Flint’s shoulder in a silent signal that drew Flint back into the car.
"Yeah, something like that," Clay muttered.
"Okay, well," I murmured, trying not to let the sudden change of atmosphere unnerve me. "I should get home before my sister decides to wring my neck. Have a good weekend, yeah?"
"You too, Jade," Flint smiled at me.
"I'll see you around school, right?" I asked.
"Sure, sure," Flint agreed, leaning back in his seat. "Don't be afraid to drop by. We're all friendly enough. Right, Clay?" he asked, leaning forward to place his hands on Clay's shoulders. Clay’s gaze was immovable from the windshield. “Just not with Tristan, you know?”
"Fair enough," I smiled at him. I looked over at Clay—nothing. "Well, I'll catch you around, then."
Clay rolled up his window and drove off without another word. I watched them drive away with a strange feeling of longing like a rock in my chest.
a shadow follows
Clay
“Fun fact for you guys,” April said beside me, her knuckles white where she crushed her phone in her hand. “That was not subtle. Nothing about that was in any way subtle. You could have seriously hurt him, Flint.”
April’s furious eye roll told me Flint answered her with a shrug of his shoulders. Not that I blamed him; it’d been Tristan who rushed at us, anyways.
“Maybe the punching wasn’t so necessary,” Nova called from the back row of the car. I could only see her shoes up against the window, ankles crossed.
“When a bear attacks, you don’t turn tail and run,” Rowan pointed out. “That only guarantees a chase.”
“Oh, Tristan’s proven himself one terrifying grizzly alright,” Nova agreed with just the slightest hint of irony. “Be real, Tristan’s just a stupid puppy whose ears are easy to stomp on. It took two whole seconds for Clay to knock sense into him.” She sat up suddenly, her expression contorted in an accusation. “Speaking of which, did you actually end up sleeping with Jade last night?”
“Was she worth it?” Flint asked, leaning forward.
“She seems nice,” Coal said through half a shiver.
I reached to turn up the heater for him, and to hide the uncomfortable warmth in my own face. I considered lying, but I’d never been good at secrets. Especially not from them, after all we’d been through and all we had to worry about. I figured at the least they could get a laugh out of it.
“I don’t remember any of it,” I admitted. “And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t either.”
Only Flint snorted behind me.
“That sounds... really bad,” Rowan said with concern.
“On whose end?” April asked the windshield.
“Well, as long as you don’t tell the Alphas,” Nova said with a yawn. “It seems like a ‘no harm, no foul’ situation. Imagine if Hawke knew our reconnaissance party ended with two missing packmates and his son sleeping with a human. We’re 0-2 at this point.”
“No kidding,” Flint said, scratching at his chin.
“We’ve got enough to worry about without an outsider trying to wedge her way in,” Nova continued. She leaned forward between Coal and Rowan, pushing her chestnut hair from her face. “No one here is a chaste little saint, right? Now that Clay’s got it out of his system, he can add the notch to his bedpost and we can all move on.”
I didn’t answer her. She met my gaze in the rearview mirror, and in her hazel eyes I saw the only secret I’d ever managed to hide from the world. Nova wasn’t challenging me per se, but the lift of her eyebrows carried a warning she didn’t need to verbalize.
“Does Hawke have any new leads he’s working with?” April asked tentatively.
“A few nights ago he found an article about some Night Town in Iowa in 1921,” I recollected. “A place supposedly like this valley he’s trying to track down.”
“What did the article say?” Coal asked.
“It mentioned that the population suffered a hit due to suspicious circumstances. At the time, the widespread blame was placed on the Hunter myth, so no convictions were ever made, let alone any suspects identified.”
