“Desmond—”
“No, shut up for a second, please,” he interrupted. I was too stupefied to counter, so he continued undeterred, “I’ve let you run off like some gung-ho warrior samurai one too many times. When you fought Marcus, you almost died. When you went to fight the vampire out in Rhinebeck last summer, you almost died. When you saved Penny at Christmas, you almost—”
“Almost doesn’t count.”
“Well for me, it does. And I’m not letting you run off without me again.”
“This isn’t some rogue vampire. This is a demon with a vendetta against me who has promised to kill everyone I love. I can’t let you come with me.”
“All the more reason you should let me come with you.”
“I can’t—”
“I am an alpha werewolf. I’m not some weak, helpl
ess human boyfriend you need to protect. You need help.”
“And what, you’re going to turn into a wolf and bite him?”
“No.” He stepped away and disappeared next to the coffee shop. I heard a car door slam, then a moment later he returned holding my antique broadsword. “You seemed to think only serious metal would work against this thing, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me to bring you the sword. I figure swords are like heads. Two are better than one.”
I gaped at him. “If anything happens to you…”
“You think I don’t feel the same way about you risking your life?”
That I couldn’t argue with. It was grossly unfair for me to expect him to sit at home and twiddle his thumbs while I ran off to what would likely be my death. If he wanted to come, who was I to stop him? And frankly, an extra sword would come in pretty handy.
“I don’t know how this is going to work with you along for the ride,” I confessed.
“How so?”
I nodded to the door of the Starbucks we stood in front of. Thankfully winter traffic at midnight was at an all-time low that night. No one had noticed a couple wielding heavy weaponry in front of the twenty-four-hour coffee shop yet. I wanted to get inside before we drew any unwanted attention.
Problem was, I wanted to cross into Calliope’s realm, and I couldn’t do that with a werewolf. Rules were rules. She’d once explained that shifters couldn’t come into her reality because time didn’t function the same there. No one could guarantee how a werewolf would react in her world, and the last thing anyone needed on their hands was an out-of-control shapeshifter.
This was going to go over swimmingly. If it went over at all.
“Give me the sword,” I said. I’d never tried to ferry someone across with me who wasn’t a vampire, and I didn’t know if I could force Desmond across the barrier with me. He looked like he was going to protest until I explained. “If you don’t make it through, I don’t want you standing in there carrying a fucking sword.”
He accepted my explanation and handed the broadsword over. I grasped both cumbersome weapons in one hand and held my other out for him.
“Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
Desmond nodded, and together we crossed the threshold. It didn’t feel like any other crossing I’d previously made into Calliope’s realm. Whenever I went through the doors it was a smooth transition from one plane to the next, like walking through a chilly air-compressed doorway. With Desmond clinging to my hand, the dimensional gate didn’t know what to do with us.
There was a struggle between the worlds as to where we belonged, and which plane would accept us. A strong force pulled Desmond back in the direction we’d come from, and I clung to his hand. His fingers dug into my wrist as supernatural forces fought to tear us apart.
With him being pulled backwards and me trying to move us forward, we were stuck in a void between worlds. I’d never noticed before how cold the air was, or how little of it there was to breathe. I sucked in a deep breath, but it felt like swallowing ashes.
“Desmond,” I choked.
His eyes were shut tight, tears welling at the corners, and then he began to dig his fingers harder into my arm. The pain shocked me into action and, after a breathless tug threatened to yank us back once and for all, I forced us onward.
The entrance to Starbucks vanished, and the Oracle’s waiting room appeared.
When I turned, Desmond was still with me, wide-eyed, holding my hand tighter than ever. I looked down at his fingers and swallowed hard. His hand had partially shifted, just like my own earlier that week. His nails were dark with my blood and buried a half-inch deep in my skin. When I looked back at his eyes the pupils were shifting, changing from human to wolf even as I watched.
I’d managed to break Calliope’s no-werewolves-allowed rule, and now I was getting an in-your-face visual on why she’d made it in the first place.