Tales of the Otherworld (28 page)

Clay was sleeping on his stomach, his head half buried under the pillow. I reached out to run my finger down a thin scar on his back. When I closed my eyes, I could trace it by memory. I loved that—the sense of knowing someone’s body so well that you could close your eyes and still see every freckle, every mole, every scar. Someday, when I was feeling brave, I’d learn the story behind each of those scars. I’d memorized the map; now I wanted to know what it meant.

When I reached the end of the scar, I opened my eyes. And I blinked, seeing something on my finger. The engagement ring.

“Fits?” he said, voice muffled by the pillow.

“When did—?”

“Last night while you were sleeping. Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.”

I said nothing. He flipped onto his back, face clouding.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

I took the ring off. “I can’t wear this.”

“What?”

“I didn’t accept.”

“Wha—? Sure you did. In the jewelry store.”

“But that wasn’t a real proposal, remember? Therefore my answer couldn’t have been real either.” Struggling to keep a straight face, I dropped the ring on his chest. “Sorry. Maybe next time.”

He growled and grabbed for me. I tried to scramble off the bed, but he caught me and pulled me down, then showed me—once again—the best part about not waking up alone.

Afterward, I curled up against him, drowsy again, thoughts of my special breakfast giving way to plans for a special brunch instead. His arms tightened around me, and his mouth moved to my ear.

“Marry me, Elena,” he whispered.

I put my hand out, and he slid the ring on.

By late March, those two nights a week at Clay’s apartment had increased to five, sometimes six. I still refused to formalize the move, but I kept so much of my stuff there that the point was moot.

Late one afternoon, when I swung by Clay’s office to grab my jacket, I found a note.

I waited for forty minutes. By then, I’d run out of homework, and really needed to start working on the essay I’d left at the apartment. So I wrote an addendum on Clay’s note, telling him I’d meet him there.

When I got to the apartment, I found the door unlocked.

“Hey,” I said as I stepped inside. “I thought you wanted me to wait at the office.”

I tossed my backpack into the hall closet and followed the sounds of movement from the bedroom.

“If you’re hiding that surprise you mentioned, you’d better hurry,” I said.

When I stepped into the bedroom, the first thing I saw was a sweater in a man’s hands, and I was about to backpedal and give Clay time to hide it. But then I recognized the sweater as the blue one he’d bought me for Christmas. My gaze traveled up to the man’s face…and I didn’t recognize
that.

Before I could hightail it out of the room, I realized I
did
recognize the guy staring at me. I saw a teenage version of him every day, in a small watercolor Clay had pinned on his bedroom wall.

Something about the face was different, but all the pieces added up—dark, wavy hair, olive skin, and heart-stopping big brown eyes in a classically handsome face. I realized what was missing. The smile. In the picture, he had a wide, easy grin that lit up his face. There was no trace of that on the man holding my sweater by the edges, as if he’d picked it out of the trash.

“You must be Nick,” I said. “I’m Elena.”

I smiled and stepped forward, hand extended. He didn’t take it. Didn’t return the smile. Just stared at me with a look not unlike the one he’d given my sweater.

My gut clenched and I stood there, feeling like an idiot, hand still out, smile still pasted on. His gaze dropped to my other hand.

“You have keys,” he said.

“Uh, yeah.” I lifted my hand and tried to smile brighter. “Two sets, actually. Long story.”

He blinked, shock darting across his face. I followed his gaze, not to the keys, but to the ring on my finger. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Clay barreled through the bedroom door and grabbed me from behind.

“Hey, darling. Didn’t I say wait?” He swung me off the floor, then kissed me before plunking me back on my feet.

“Yes, and you also said you’d be back soon.”

“Yeah, I know. I got tied up in the dean’s office. So I see you’ve found your surprise.”

He turned to Nick, who was staring at us with that same look of shock he’d given my ring.

Clay walked over and slapped his back. “About time he showed up, huh?” He bared his teeth in something that could be passed off as a smile. “For a guy who doesn’t believe in working, you’ve been doing an awful lot of it lately, buddy.”

Nick didn’t seem to hear him.

“What?” Clay said, smile turning brittle. “At a loss for words? That’ll be the day. Come on. I bought some steaks—”

“I need to talk to you,” Nick said. A glance my way, one that didn’t even bother to meet my eyes. “Alone.”

“Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Elena.”

“No, that’s okay,” I said. “You guys obviously have a lot of catching up to do.”

Clay grabbed my elbow as I backed up. I hesitated. Then I looked at Nick, saw that gut-twisting expression on his face, the one I’d feared seeing when I finally did meet Clay’s friends and family, that look of bewilderment that said “What the hell are you doing with
her
?”

So this was why Clay had taken so long to start introducing me. Because he knew I’d be a disappointment. Exactly what I’d felt every time a new foster family had taken me in. That I didn’t measure up.

Dimly, I heard Clay say something, but the blood pounding in my ears drowned it out. I tugged free of Clay’s grasp, and hurried out the door.

I
FOLLOWED ELENA INTO THE HALL AND TRIED
to talk to her. The moment someone stepped off the elevator and looked our way, though, she brushed me off with assurances that everything was okay. I wanted to pursue it, but I was seething at Nick and knew that every sharp word I said, Elena would take personally. She promised to meet me for breakfast, and I watched her leave, then stormed back into my apartment.

Nick was in the living room.

“What the hell were you doing?” I said as I strode toward him.

He stood his ground. “What the hell are
you
doing? There’s a ring—an engagement ring—on that girl’s finger. If you’re screwing around with some guy’s fiancée—”

“That’s my ring.”

He winced, as if that was the answer he’d been dreading. He slumped into the nearest chair. “How could you—?”

“I told you I was in love.”

“With the first girl you’ve slept with. Of course you think you’re in love! Do you have any idea how many Pack rules you’re breaking?” A harsh laugh. “Sure you do. You’re the rule expert. And you make damned sure that
we
follow each and every one of them.”

“This is different.”

“Right. Because you’re different and the rules don’t apply to you.”

“Yes, they do. I know I’m disobeying—”

“
Betraying
, Clay. Not disobeying. Jeremy trusted you up here. You lied to him and you lied to me and to everyone in the Pack. The only person
you told the truth to was Logan, and only because he found out your secret.”

“I never lied—”

“Bullshit! You lied every time we asked you what was going on and you said ‘Nothing.’”

“I was waiting for the right—”

“And what about this girl? She’s in love with you, and she thinks you’re going to marry her.”

“I am.”

“You—” He stared at me, unblinking, then leaned back into the chair and shook his head. “You can’t keep this a secret, Clay. My father tried it.”

When I looked over sharply, he continued. “Yes, I know about that. I pretend I don’t because he doesn’t want me to know, and bringing it up would only hurt him. That’s important to me—not hurting people.”

“And you think it isn’t important to
me
? Since when have I—”

“Lied to everyone you’re supposed to care about?” He shook it off. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t work. It didn’t with my father and it won’t for you. This isn’t a secret you can keep from someone you’re supposed to love.”

“I’m not going to. I plan to tell her.”

“Tell—?” His mouth worked, but nothing more came out. After a moment, he rubbed his hand over his lips. “Jeremy won’t let you. He can’t. It would break Pack Law and he cannot do it, even for you. You know that.”

“He’ll understand.”

Nick threw up his hands and stood. “Oh, right. Stupid me. He’ll understand. And I suppose she’ll understand, too. Whoops, did I forget to mention I’m a werewolf? Hey, you understand, don’t you?”

“She will.”

“In what universe—?” He stared at me, then gave a slow shake of his head. “Yesterday, if someone had asked me who I know better than anyone in the world, I’d have said you. But now?” He met my gaze, then dropped his. “I don’t know who you are. Maybe I never did.”

He walked to the door, then stopped, his back still to me. “You have to tell Jeremy.”

“I will. Just as soon as—”

“You’re going home next week for Easter, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“You’ll tell him then,” he said, his voice taking on a tone I’d never heard from him before. “And if you don’t, I will.”

“Nick, you—”

“I won’t let you fuck up your life, Clay, and I won’t let you fuck up that girl’s. When my father did this, he was just a kid. He didn’t know better. You do.”

He opened the door and walked out.

I stood in the middle of the room, blood roaring in my ears. I hadn’t betrayed anyone. I would never do that. Never.

Nick didn’t understand. Jeremy would. He’d know I never intended to hurt anyone, that I would never hurt anyone I loved. I couldn’t. If my best friend didn’t know that—

I don’t know who you are. Maybe I never did.

My hands clenched and my skin started to pulse. Change—I had to— No, I couldn’t. Elena could come back at any moment. I couldn’t let her see me like this.

Can’t let her see you like
what
? Like you really are? Can’t let her see the truth? Can’t let her see that everything you’ve told her is a lie?

“It’s not a lie!” I said aloud. “She knows me.”

Like Nick knows you? Like Jeremy knows you? What is she going to say? What is Jeremy going to say?

“He’ll understand,” I muttered. “They both will.”

The voice started again, but I clenched my teeth and willed it to silence. I had to Change—no, I had to see Elena. Yes, Elena. When I saw her, everything would make sense, as it always did. I’d see her, and I’d see a solution, a way to make it right.

I took deep breaths and watched the hairs retract from my arms. Then I straightened, grabbed my coat, and walked out.

As I left the parking lot, I saw Elena at the side door. At first I blinked, sure I was mistaken. Then I caught the unmistakable sound of her voice.

“—test my threat, Jason, you’ve made a very big mistake. I said I’d go to the police, and that’s what I’m doing. Right now.”

She took three steps, then the figure beside her shot forward and grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me or—”

He twisted her arm. She yelped. I charged.

I got to them just as Elena kicked Jason’s shins. As he stumbled, I grabbed him by the collar. Through the blood pounding in my ears, I heard her shout for me to stop, that she had things under control. But it wasn’t under control. Nothing in my life was under control. I’d broken Pack Law. I’d lied to my Pack brothers, my Alpha, my mate. I hadn’t even been able to protect Elena from this bastard.

I slammed Jason into the wall. His head crunched against the brick, eyes going wide, the irises sliding up as he lost consciousness.

“Clay!” Elena ran up behind him. “Don’t—!”

I loosened my hold and Jason slumped forward.

“Oh, my god,” she whispered. “You—you killed him.”

“Not yet.”

I drove my fist into his jaw. Bone crunched. Elena screamed, her voice filled with panic and rage as she shouted at me to let him go. I heard footsteps coming toward the corner. I grabbed Jason, dragged him behind the building, and was about to throw him to the ground when a hand clamped around my arm. I wheeled, fist in flight, saw Elena and checked my swing, blowing past her face so close my knuckles grazed her cheek. Her eyes went wide. For a second, we just stared at each other. Then she turned and ran.

It took me a moment to recover enough to go after her. I tracked her to the subway station, but she’d already boarded the train, so I went back to her dorm to wait. There was an ambulance there. I ignored it. Yes, maybe someone had seen me earlier. Maybe they’d recognize me now and point the police in my direction. I couldn’t have cared less. I plunked myself onto a bench behind the dorm. I waited all night, and she didn’t come back.

I split the rest of the weekend between waiting outside her dorm
and checking places she might take refuge—the library, the museum, the student lounges. When Monday came, I waited outside her first class, and both other classes she had that day. She didn’t show up.

On Wednesday, I walked into my office to find her sitting there, face pale, dark circles under reddened eyes.

“I can’t do this, Clay,” she said as I walked in.

She put her hand out over the desk and let the ring drop. It rolled, hit a pile of papers, and fell still. I stared at it.

“I’ve tried,” she said quietly. “I kept telling myself—I kept
lying
to myself, saying everything was okay, but it isn’t, and I can’t do this.”

She stood and stepped toward the door. I jumped into her path. Panic flashed behind her eyes. I quickly moved aside.

“I can explain,” I said.

“Explain
what
?”

“Everything. Everything that worries you about me—scares you.”

“I don’t think any explanation could—”

“Come home with me.”

A slow shake of her head. “If you have something to say, say it here. I’m not going back to your apartment again.”

“Not the apartment. Home. Stonehaven. Come with me to Stonehaven this weekend, and you’ll understand everything.”