Page 18 of Enemy turned Mate

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“Yes, I do,” was Michael’s prompt response. “I have orders.”

“It’s loose orders. Not strict orders. I will be fine.”

Michael didn’t argue, determined to prove to Angelo that there would be no more trouble. Peachy ignored him the rest of the way but paid Nico a lot of attention, tapping his arm.

“I was expecting you to stay longer in North Bear.”

Nico shrugged. “Some things needed to be taken care of, and it was no longer my task.” He didn’t elaborate. She brushed his arm once more, an action that had him lifting a brow.

“I missed you,” she declared.

“Er…you just saw me a few days ago.”

“I know. It wasn’t enough. You are always so fun to be with.”

It took him a while, but he began to piece things together. He glanced at Michael and found his brother looking stoic and unresponsive. When they arrived in the western part of the territory, he scouted the tents and found one at the very back, secluded from the others. He held up his hands, approaching first and standing outside the tent.

“Hey, Anne. It’s me.”

“And me,” Peachy piped in, then backed away at Nico’s warning look. But she called out one last time. “Good night, and rest well, Anne.”

He waited for the two to stay back, then turned to face the tent.

“Just me now. I just wanted you to know that whatever you need, you can just ask. Or write it. Or sign. I’m sure the basics are in the tent already, but just in case there’s anything else, I will be around. If you don’t want to ask them, you can ask me.”

The light flickered, its lamp source at the center of the tent. The tent was thick enough to hide any shadows inside and he detected no sound.

“It’s going to rain soon. Something to do with Fae but not connected with our clan. Are you going to be okay?”

Silence. He didn’t expect anything and found his worries easing when the shadow of a hand appeared, pressing against the tent material. He reached out, but stopped at the last second and tapped the space beside her hand instead. It retreated quickly.

“Goodnight, Anne.”

As Daria had predicted, the rain came pouring down in spades, accompanied by loud blasts of thunder and flashes of lightning in the sky. Everyone scrambled for shelter in their huts, the mansion, or clearings modified with makeshift roofs. Peachy went for the latter while Michael was close behind her. An argument was brewing in the air, so Nico held up his hands.

“I will check out my room and see—”

A small hand wrapped around his wrist and dragged him with them. The woman was strangely strong for someone so small, leaving him with no choice but to go with them. Reluctantly, he sat on a tree trunk protected with weaved dried leaves at the back and sides and wasn’t fazed when Peachy sat beside him. Michael lounged on the other end, looking at the rain. She pressed her side against Nico as if seeking warmth and sighed in appreciation when she got it. Then her hand caressed his arm as it had earlier.

“Shifters are so warm. It’s so nice.”

“Not in hot weather.”

She giggled as if he had said the funniest thing. “Right.”

“Peachy?”

“What?”

He lowered his voice, the rain helping to tone it down. “You are acting very weird. Is this for Michael’s benefit?”

The caressing stilled, and she didn’t quite look him in the eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Peachy…”

“Fine.” A stubborn look flared as she whispered back. “I don’t want him to think that I’m mooning over him. I want him to know that he’s the last man on my mind.”

“Yes, well, I don’t think it’s going to work since he doesn’t even care.” Casually, he took her hand and squeezed, then brushed her arm back. Neither reacted, aware there was no spark. “See? He’s not….”


Tags: J.S. Striker Paranormal