Little Wolf (70 page)

Graham’s expression blanked out so quickly Tim started to wonder if he
hadn’t
been studying with Silas, or if Graham wasn’t entirely werewolf. Tim exchanged another look with Carl, but then Graham stepped away, young and calm again and impossible to read. Nathaniel might have been able to get something from his scent. Tim only got youth and confusion and a strange embarrassment. “Oh,” Graham offered, his voice so low Tim found himself interfering.

“Albert, you should get him some lunch before he goes back to school.” Tim had no idea if the Wolf’s Paw high school had an open campus, but if it didn’t, sneaking in was Graham’s problem, and he shouldn’t face it on an empty stomach. Anyway, those two clearly needed to talk, or something.

“Uh,” Albert said brilliantly, as if he hadn’t eaten hundreds of meals with Graham over the years. But he recovered enough to lead Graham over toward the café counter.

“How’s that look from the outside?” Carl inquired mildly.

Tim flipped him off. “Instincts and better-than-human senses should make this shit easier.”

“That would hardly be fair to the rest of us,” Carl griped in return. He raised his voice as the café began to fill up. It was close enough to lunchtime that Tim let Carl pretend to read his paper while Tim rang up the occasional gawker or tourist and stared out the window. Albert decided to walk Graham to school, to return shortly or never; he didn’t bother to say. It meant Tim was working on his day off, but Nathaniel should be in soon, and meanwhile
Diedre’s Secret
was starting.

Perhaps even the tourists had heard the gossip about the big reveal in this episode, because many of them turned toward the TV as they waited for their food, and several of them shushed one another. One fairy was raining sheets of glitter as though she couldn’t contain herself.

Tim realized why as soon as the episode started. A fairy was onscreen, a real fairy, not a human dressed as one like this was some movie from a long time ago. Tim must have missed something again, because the fairy was being introduced as Bianca’s cousin, when everyone knew Bianca was an orphan and human. “I guess it was true, what the human conservatives were afraid of when Blake first came on the show. First a werewolf and now a fairy. What will they sneak in next?”

Carl harrumphed in agreement while considering the screen as if he wanted to move closer to hear it better. Tim waved him on. He watched Carl go and then leaned on the counter to watch this new fairy skulk around.

“Ridiculous,” he scoffed, while absorbed in the crafty looks the fairy was giving a nervous Bianca.

“What is?” Nathaniel asked next to his ear, and Tim barely contained his yelp.

“Silent motherfucker,” Tim swore over his shoulder at him, annoyed for the half a second it took to inhale how pleased to see him Nathaniel was. “I am trying to watch my stories here.”

“I can see that.” Nathaniel bent in to share the dry words with only him. “If you hadn’t been, you might have noticed me behind you.”

The heat alone should have tipped Tim off. The scent was another indication. No wonder Nathaniel had always expected Tim to notice he was there. Tim scrubbed at one stinging cheek and gave a long-suffering sigh when Nathaniel brushed his hand away to run his fingertips over Tim’s flushed, warm skin.

It should have felt too hot. Instead it was somehow cooling, steadying. Nathaniel gave Tim a look that said he’d missed him, and Tim wanted to roll his eyes but duck in closer. The counter stopped him, and the conflicting impulses were making him jittery. He had no idea which to listen to, so he came around the counter. Nathaniel grabbed him before he was halfway to him and pulled Tim in the rest of the way.

There was no kiss, only Tim’s back against Nathaniel’s chest and Nathaniel’s chin against his temple. They were both facing the café. Nathaniel had probably wanted to make sure Tim could still see his show.

Tim sighed against him. He hadn’t gone anywhere. Nathaniel remained stupidly happy about that. After a few minutes of shared air and Nathaniel’s arms settling around him, Tim spoke quietly. “Robin’s Egg said she’d bring you food when you got here. She already fed me.” He stared at the TV and not at the people now glancing at the two of them. “Hey, are we married?”

He felt the shock go through Nathaniel. “What?”

“Not officially, in the human sense,” Tim explained, distracted by the thought more than the show. “But everything that happened on that couch last night… it wasn’t some ritual I was unaware of or anything? If it was, you know I can’t be held responsible for the traditions of this town I don’t know about.”

He couldn’t tell if Nathaniel was thinking over his answer or completely thrown. “We aren’t married,” Nathaniel answered at last. Tim pictured him lifting an eyebrow. “Ritual? Really?”

“I was mated for months and didn’t know it,” Tim pointed out. “I refuse to be embarrassed about other things you don’t tell me.”

“Well, there are no secret marriage rituals involving the sheriff’s couch, so you’re fine there,” Nathaniel muttered in his
Little Wolf, you are killing me
tone. It was a very warm tone usually. But today there was a small chill. “You mean you don’t want to marry me?”

Tim turned around,
Diedre’s Secret
—and its commercials—be damned. He had his assurances ready until he looked up and caught the glint in Nathaniel’s eyes. Nathaniel thought he was so funny. Tim crossed his arms and turned back around.

Nathaniel nosed at his hair. This time his pulse was no longer steady. “If you wanted….” Nathaniel paused, breathing harder. “If you ever wanted to, if you were concerned with human legalities, I would.” He placed one hand over Tim’s ribs, under his crossed arms. “I wouldn’t mind. I’d like that, signing the papers, announcing it.”

Tim dropped his arms. Even knowing what they were to each other didn’t change how it felt to hear that. He twisted around again. “You barely know me.” He grasped handfuls of Nathaniel’s uniform shirt and held tight.

He got a wry stare for his trouble. Yeah, yeah, instinct. But this was different. This was an event outside of emotion. Marriage was a declaration and a contract. That made it practically business. Tim understood that better than an instinctual drive toward a stranger. He put his face to Nathaniel’s skin before breathing in deep. “Give me time to get used to this,” he agreed after a while. “Then we can talk about flowers and seating arrangements.”

He turned his face up at the familiar rumble, showing his teeth in a feral smile. “We have to invite Carl. Then he and Silas can fight over who gets to give me away.”

“Are you the bride? I thought I was the tragic princess in this relationship.” Nathaniel’s deadpan was flawless.

Tim struggled to seem unimpressed. “Bitch, you know it will be my day.” The moment he said it, he was so, so grateful Carl was out of earshot. The remark cracked Nathaniel’s poker face at least. He smiled, but it didn’t last long.

“Speaking of your uncle,” Nathaniel started cautiously, although they really had not been speaking of Silas. Tim leveled a sour look at him. “The station had a visitor today,” Nathaniel finished, which meant he thought the visitor was worth mentioning no matter how grumpy Tim got.

Tim mentally ticked off reasons for that. “Silas?”

“Not him,” Nathaniel elaborated. “A representative. Not a thug. A lawyer.”

“For Luca? Dammit.” Tim should never have believed Silas.

“No.” Nathaniel interrupted Tim’s rising indignation. “No, he was there to see me.” He lowered his voice even more. “About you.”

Tim met his gaze. “He sent a lawyer instead of coming himself? Coward… or it’s a feint of some kind. Or—”

Nathaniel stopped him again. “He claimed he was there to see that your interests were protected. I said you should be present if that was true and had him shown out.”

“Ah.” Tim imagined that. Then he imagined Silas’s reaction. Then he focused on Nathaniel once again. “It’s probably about the money.” He released Nathaniel with relief. “Don’t worry about it.”

“All right,” Nathaniel agreed, only to clutch at Tim a moment later. “What money? I don’t have any money worth fighting over.”

Tim patted his cheek. “My money. Obviously.” He leaned into Nathaniel and moved to keep the TV in sight while also having Nathaniel pressed against him. The uniform wasn’t the softest material, but Tim was getting used to it for the sake of the sound of Nathaniel’s heart beating beneath his ear. He sighed in greedy contentment. “I have a trust fund.” He was a Dirus. Of course he had money. He was surprised Nathaniel hadn’t thought of it, but Nathaniel was frozen behind him. Tim had to tug to get Nathaniel’s arm around him, although Nathaniel wrapped his other arm around Tim without being told. “I have some ideas about that money, but we don’t have to think about it now.” The silence from Nathaniel made him peer up. “Still glad you got stuck with me?”

That worked. Nathaniel squeezed Tim tight. “I didn’t get stuck with you.” He was ridiculous, with his hugs and his nose tickling Tim over his ear and his strong, encircling arms. “I chose you. But not for your money.”

Tim huffed, glad he could ignore the subplot onscreen right now while Nathaniel stroked his hands over his sides in a way he clearly thought was reassuring. Tim was used to having money. He didn’t need the reassurance. “I wonder if Silas was going to offer you money to make sure you keep me,” Tim debated out loud. “Like a dowry,” he explained into the storm clouds in Nathaniel’s face, and belatedly realized Nathaniel would not consider this flattering to Tim.

Tim thought it was practical, but Nathaniel’s scent was getting as heated as lightning, so he nodded with his face against Nathaniel’s chest. “No dowry, then. Got it.” He hummed. “But you really should try to get all the money you can out of Silas. Think of it as revenge, since all the money will be mine someday anyway.”

He wouldn’t have said Nathaniel’s anger calmed as much as it momentarily abated. “Wh—Your family is medieval.”

“We’re Medicis with fluffy ears,” Tim responded honestly, only to jerk upright at the sound of Nurse Valerie’s voice. He twisted and craned his neck while simultaneously sliding his arms around Nathaniel’s waist. The Dirus might show affection through fucked-up gestures and financial statements, but this way was good too, as Tim was learning. “Shh.”

“How’s he doing?” Nurse Valerie’s roommate and best friend asked after Valerie slipped from Blake’s hospital room. Through the window that Tim didn’t think hospital rooms had in real life, they watched Blake sleeping fitfully. Tim also didn’t see why Blake was in a hospital. He was heartbroken, not injured. But there he was, shirtless and sweaty as he tossed about. He’d been calm in the first few seconds while Valerie had stood at his bedside.

“He needs to rest,” Nurse Valerie announced mournfully. “A were’s body takes a lot of energy, and yet he isn’t sleeping well.”

“He was a few minutes ago,” her roommate prodded. Clearly the roommate knew about Valerie’s feelings for Blake.

“This show is impossible.” Nathaniel snorted. “And inaccurate.”

Tim shushed him.

“Where’s his mate?” Valerie’s roommate wondered, that sneer in her voice again, as if she didn’t think much of Carolyn, despite how the entire town had stopped to search for Carolyn when she’d gone missing. “Where’s Carolyn if she’s so right for him?”

“She rejected him, remember?” Valerie asked wretchedly. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Blake’s glistening, perspiring form. Tim couldn’t really blame her. She wrung her hands for a moment and then pulled out the amulet she always wore and clutched it tightly.

For a moment, right as she turned away from Blake, it shone with artificial, Hollywood magic. Through the window, Blake stilled, drawing a deep, slow breath that allowed him to fall to sleep.

Tim grabbed at Nathaniel as movement went through the café. “I knew it!” Tim insisted. “It’s magic! Bianca gave her that necklace, and you can’t trust Bianca!” He gestured across the room at Carl. “I told you Valerie belonged with Blake! They’re mates. The amulet is blocking it or something! Wait….” He raised his head and ignored the puzzled but amused look Nathaniel was giving him. “Wait, can magic do that? Erase a mating like that?”

Maybe it was because they were so new, but Tim dug his claws into Nathaniel’s shirt and clenched his jaw before shooting a threatening glance around the room. Nathaniel raised a hand to run the tips of his fingers down Tim’s throat.

Tim took a breath. “Would our senses really be fooled by a spell? Is it that easy to lose this?”

Behind him, he could hear Bianca again, apparently talking to herself about how Blake should never have crossed her. She must have been a witch the entire time, although that didn’t explain what a fairy was doing with her.

Nathaniel continued to pet Tim, his eyes on his hand as he curled it over Tim’s throat, then slid it away, leaving just his thumb to brush over a small, very recent bite-shaped scar.

“Love spells don’t work on weres who are mated.” Nathaniel was firm on that point but less so a second later. “But a disguise… a glamour might act as a barrier, keep the were from recognizing it. That could work if enough power was put into it.” He didn’t like what he was saying. Tim didn’t like it either. “But we know.”

“Now.” Tim glowered, mostly at himself for taking so long. “We both know,
now
.” He hadn’t known he’d wanted a mate until he had one, so he’d never realized the dangers in not seeing what was in front of him. He put his back to the TV and let Nathaniel draw him closer. His distress was Nathaniel’s distress. He had to get used to that. For now, that meant shivering for the feathery touches along his throat, the sign of affection he hadn’t recognized before. He’d allowed Nathaniel to touch him where he was most vulnerable and hadn’t wanted to see the significance.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and reached up to sweep his fingers along Nathaniel’s pulse. Nathaniel closed his eyes and said his name softly. “Tim. It’s just a show.”

Tim nodded and brought his hand down to Nathaniel’s waist. Nathaniel bent his head, sniffing out whatever it was about Tim that smelled so good to him. Tim inhaled, sinking into comfort and passion and a perplexing amount of warmth that he’d used to think was fire, or smoke. He realized, long after everyone else in this town had, that it wasn’t fire, and gave a start. The crisp scent of clean air and trees and snow was Nathaniel, but the heat was not. That was love, and it had been there all along, and Tim was only now figuring it out.