A meaning that’s clear to me, but maybe not to Alicia. Her smile is gone, her face pale as she asks, “The one who attacked me is dead?”
“Yeah,” I say gruffly.
A tremor shakes through her. “Yesterday, when I was walking here…I heard you talking about tracking someone down. Was that about hunting me?”
Ah, fuck. “Just to talk, baby. To see what kind of werewolf was running around town—someone decent or someone like the one who bit you, or maybe someone who already tamed their beast. But as soon as you walked through the door, we knew who we’d be looking for. And I already knew the kind of person you are.”
Expression uncertain, her eyes search mine for a long second before she nods. She drops her attention to her plate again, cutting away another small bite. “So…how do I tame it?”
Voice low, I tell her, “By falling in love with me.”
Her gaze jerks up to meet mine again. “What? That’s not funny.”
“You think I’d joke about that? I’m dead serious.”
Her lip trembles before she pinches it between her teeth, hiding her face as best she can by staring down at her plate. “That can’t be right,” she whispers.
“It is.” Beneath my hand, her smooth thigh is taut, quivering with tension. “And that’s where this thing between us was always headed, yeah? Even before you were bit. So let’s just keep on going.”
She gives a little shake of her head. “But it can’t be that simple.”
“It is. Mostly.” The falling in love part sure was simple for me. Might be more complicated for her, though. “And like I said, I’m sticking around here. So we’ve got time for it to happen. If it takes longer than the next full moon, that’ll be all right, too—because I’ll be out there with you.”
She gives me another of those haunted looks. “With the beast, you mean.”
The beast is Alicia, too. But I don’t push it now. That idea might take a while to get used to, and it’s clear she believes there’s a vicious monster inside her, just like the one who attacked her. And she’s terrified of what it might do.
But she’s also sitting right here, not at all scared of me. Though she’s seen what I can become. So in time, maybe she’ll also stop being so scared of herself.
Her brow furrowed slightly, Sam asks, “Does a gold chain have anything to do with this taming?”
And that was damn unexpected. I meet my brother’s eyes, see the same surprise there. “Yeah, it does,” I tell her. “How’d you know that?”
We only know because of our great grandfather—and the story of when he was tamed by my great grandmother.
“Internet.” She drags out her phone. “We’ve scoured about every site there is, looking for answers. The problem is, how do you know what’s bullshit and what’s real? But what you’re saying now reminds me of this. And I bookmarked— There it is.”
Brandon pushes closer to her, looks at the screen. “‘A History of Wolfkin and Bearkin. Based on the research of Bjørn Virtanen.’ Shit, that’s a good start, because we’ve run into people like us who do call themselves wolfkin and bearkin. So who’s this Virtanen?”
Sam shrugs. “I looked up the name but got nothing. So here we go…Norse epics and runes, blah blah blah, bears are berserker warriors, and there are also warriors with wolf skins that are called— I can’t even pronounce that word.”
Reading over her shoulder, Brandon tries an, “Ulfdugha…?”
“Whatever. Are you guys impervious to fire and most weapons?”
“Yeah, we are.” I look to Alicia, who’s quietly eating again. “Did you know that? Can’t get burnt, can’t get stabbed or cut by anything made of iron. Which means you’re safe from steel, too. Lead bullets hurt a bit—so does silver, but it doesn’t kill us. Just takes longer to heal.”
Tightly she nods. “Okay.”
Ah, baby. My heart fucking aches for her. The curious science teacher I know wouldn’t just meekly accept what I just told her. She’d ask all kinds of questions about how and why it works.
But she’s hurting bad right now. I can feel that pain, can smell the hopelessness coming off of her. And what’s hurting her now isn’t a weapon or fire, but inside her.
“Who even made this site?” There’s a little tussle on the other side of the table as Brandon swipes his finger down the screen, apparently trying to scroll past whatever bit about the gold chain that Sam’s trying to find. “There’s barely anything here but the notes and research. Is there a contact number?”
“Just a generic email.” Pulling the phone out of his reach, Sam pivots in her seat, presenting her back to him. “I never sent a message, though. Alicia didn’t like that it was all based on mythology and legends instead of science. And for all I knew, it was someone who uses this site to lure in unsuspecting werewolves and kills them for their pelts.”