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They just looked ordinary – but they weren’t. I was in the Common realm but they had remained in the Other; they could broil me where I stood, if they wanted to. My brain still kept trying to see them with flames dancing on their heads but, try as I might, all I could see was their hair. The Other protects itself from being revealed in myriad ways that I have yet to fully understand.
Manners had followed me into the portal and, for now, we were ordinary and vulnerable, so we headed up to the flat that Maxwell keeps above the café. It is like Fort Knox, and I relaxed a little more as we went through each heavy door secured by thick metal bolts.
Calling it a flat is ungenerous: it’s a huge, open-plan space. A fire was roaring – no surprise there – and Maxwell had the TV on. He rose from the leather sofa to greet us. ‘Lucy, Greg. Great to see you both. Are you tired? Or do you want to hang?’
It was late but I was too edgy to relax. ‘Let’s chill for a bit,’ I suggested. I like Maxwell; there’s something about his easy joviality that always puts me at ease. In him I have found a kindred spirit.
Manners bolted the door behind us and chucked our two duffel bags on the floor. I kicked off my shoes and he followed suit. My mum is always a stickler for removing your shoes as you enter other people’s homes.
Maxwell headed to the fridge. ‘Beer?’ he called.
Manners slid his eyes to me. ‘Go ahead,’ I said. We were away from the mansion and we had four fire elementals protecting us. Even Manners needed to relax now and again. ‘I’m okay, though,’ I said to Maxwell. I’m not much of a beer drinker; I’m more of cocktail girl.
Maxwell handed a beer to Manners and we sat on the sofas. He chucked me a blanket, which I snuggled into. I watched the flames dance in the grate and the stress of the portal gradually drained away. Fires always calm me; I guess it’s something primordial in every human, a leftover from our caveman days.
‘How’s Jinx?’ Maxwell asked.
I smiled. Jinx is Jess’s nickname. ‘She’s good. She’s smitten.’
Maxwell grinned. ‘Yeah, Roscoe said. Emory seems like a good guy.’
‘I think so.’
‘Iknowso,’ Manners interrupted. Before he’d changed into a werewolf, Emory was his boss. Despite the power divide between them, they always seemed pretty close, and Manners is fiercely protective of him.
‘Let’s hope you’re both right. Trouble seems to be brewing between the creatures and the human side. I hope Emory can calm it down before it explodes,’ Maxwell said.
I sighed. ‘No politics, please. I’m too tired for politics.’
Maxwell flashed me a grin with his perfectly white teeth. ‘No problem. Let’s watch something light and easy.’ He flicked onSex and The Cityand winked at me.
Manners resisted giving an audible groan, and I tried to swallow my smile. ‘Perfect,’ I said.
We settled down into Sarah Jessica Parker’s inner monologue. It was a fairly feisty episode, with Kim Cattrall giving her boyfriend a blowjob. I felt my cheeks warm and focused on the screen so hard that it hurt. I didnotwant to catch Manners’ eye just now. Maxwell watched me squirm with barely concealed amusement.
As the episode finished, I took my duffel and beat a hasty retreat into one of the many bedrooms. I followed my nightly routine: I removed my makeup, cleansed, toned and moisturised. You’ve got to moisturise – you can skip the rest, as long as you moisturise. My mum uses her creams religiously and looks so much younger than her sixty years. As she’s not my biological mum I have no idea how I’ll look when I age, but moisturising certainly isn’t going to hurt me. With my skin taken care of, I washed and slipped into a pink silk pyjama set.
I missed Esme. I was so rarely in the Common realm that I’d grown used to her constant presence. She isn’t a chatterbox like me but her solid presence is reassuring, like having someone constantly hugging you. I tried to remind myself that she would be back soon, but it was a hollow consolation. I wondered if she felt as bereft as me, wherever she was.
I nestled into the clean bedsheets and felt entirely too lonely. ‘Night, Esme,’ I whispered. There was no response. Exhaustion clawed at me. Lonely or not, sleep soon took me.
I was woken from a deep sleep by the blaring of my phone. Even though I was still half asleep, the abrupt noise set my heart racing and I felt panicky. I took a moment to calm myself before I answered.
The call was from the mansion. I’d never been called by the pack before. It was only 6.10 am and dread curled in my belly. It wasn’t going to be good news; no one wakes you at 6.10 am to tell you that you’ve won a thousand pounds.
‘Lucy speaking.’
There was a long pause while my caller debated what to say. I tried to swallow my impatience. Finally someone spoke and I recognised his voice. It was Liam. ‘You should be here. The others don’t want me to call you, but you should be here. Mark is dead.’ He hung up.
What the hell? Doziness was swept from my brain as alarm surged in. How could Mark be dead? He was an obnoxious asshole, but he was a werewolf. We are incredibly strong and incredibly fast, and we don’t die easily. Mark had been the third in the pack; whatever had killed him was a threat not just to me, but to the pack as a whole.
I grabbed my duffel bag, yanked out some clothes and sighed. I hadn’t anticipated death when I’d packed, and all I could find were pale, washed-out jeans and a pink satin shirt with flamingos on it. Hardly appropriate. Still, I couldn’t go back in yesterday’s clothes; not only would that be unhygienic, but the smell would be offensive to anyone who was currently in wolf form.
As I dressed, I fervently hoped that Mark had had an allergy to something I didn’t know about. Accidental death by peanut. Fingers crossed.
I shoved everything else back in the duffel and went into the lounge where the guys were talking at the breakfast bar over coffee and croissants.
‘You’re up early, ma’am,’ Manners greeted me.
