“Why isn’t it working?”
“What’s different from last night and today?
I shrugged.
“Last night you were more relaxed.”
“I’m trying to relax.”
“But you’re still worrying. You need to let it all go.”
“You think I’m worrying? About what?”
“Hurting me. Hurting the squirrel.”
He was crazy. I wasn’t worried about that. I looked up at the squirrel staring down at us and realized it had stopped chittering. Why? And the sudden worry I felt affirmed Carlos was right. I sighed. How did someone let go of all worry?
No matter how hard I tried, I cared about whether or not I would hurt someone around me. If I couldn’t push the overflow out, that meant I needed to spar. My stomach shook its head at the idea.
“It’s not working.” Facing Carlos, I gave him an unhappy look and put my hands up. He shadowed my move. “I might puke on you. If I do, I’m really sorry.”
“I can handle it.”
“I can’t.” I gave a half-hearted jab.
He swatted it away and returned the swing. It was so unexpected that I almost didn’t block in time.
“What the hell?”
“Fight,” he growled.
“I hope I do puke on you.” I started to swing like I meant it.
I gagged twice within two minutes, and he was quick to dance away. But after that, some of the nausea started to ease. He seemed to sense I was feeling better because he drove me harder. Sweat started to glue my shirt to my back. I hated that feeling. And it was unlikely that I’d get a shower until after dinner. The thought of yet another restaurant dinner made my stomach twist. I didn’t understand why it would be so picky now after months of feeding it TV dinners.
“Do you know what?” I said, trying to find a way under his guard.
“What?”
He blocked my jab to his head.
“I want a sandwich. Just a plain ‘ol PB and J.” He was a second too slow on raising his arm, and I caught his jaw. I almost apologized, but he was too quick to return the blow. Blocking became more of a priority than saying sorry.
“What kind of jelly?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m just tired of the heavy restaurant food. And I want cereal for breakfast.” When I stopped talking, I stepped back. “I’m done. For now. If I get any more sweaty it will just annoy me more than we’re helping me.”
He nodded and relaxed.
“Thanks, Carlos.”
“Anytime, Isabelle.”
My stomach dipped in a pleasant way as he said my name like it was an endearment and a secret promise. I awkwardly nodded then started walking back to the restaurant as Carlos’ request to run and later to bite him bounced around in my head along with Bethi’s words.
“Would it be all right with you if Winifred and Bethi took your place in the car? Just for a little while?”
“Why?”
He didn’t sound objectionable to the request, only curious.
“I have some questions.” Questions that might result in me wanting to beat him again. Or me blushing. Either way, I didn’t want him around.
“All right. When it gets to be too much, tell Winifred to let me know. We can stop for a break.”
“Thanks,” I said, glancing at him. The slightly pink mark on his cheek caused a pang of regret. I was tired of hitting people. Well, I wouldn’t mind hitting a few more of those Urbat. Better yet, Blake. But it wasn’t like Blake or his men would just hold still for me while I—
I grinned.
“You’re happy,” Carlos said, opening the door for me.
“I am. I think I just had a brilliant idea.”
I didn’t tell him, though. Instead, I stepped inside and smiled at Bethi who was watching for me. I doubted Carlos would be onboard with what I had in mind. But I had no doubt Bethi would be. She didn’t seem the type to back down from anything. And she knew I needed to realize my full potential in order to help them deal with the Urbat.
“I was wondering if you and Winifred would drive with me for a bit,” I said, moving toward Bethi.
“That’s fine with me.” She patted Luke’s arm when he frowned at her.
I glanced at Winifred, and she nodded. When I turned to look for Carlos, he was talking to the waitress.
“We’ve paid the bill and can leave if you’re ready,” Winifred said, reclaiming my attention.
“I’m ready.”
Thirteen
Bethi turned in her seat to look back at me. We were in the car, waiting for Winifred and Carlos to come out of the restaurant.
“What’s up with the switch?”
“I have some questions about what you said this morning. And I have an idea that I’ll need your help with.”
“Intriguing.”
The driver’s door opened, and Winifred got in. I turned to see Carlos climb into the front of the SUV with Jim. Our gazes met as he closed the door. My stomach did its weird twist thing.
“This is for you,” Winifred said, breaking my focus. She passed a to-go box back to me. I took it but didn’t open it. The portion of BLT still in my stomach was enough for now. Winifred watched me in the mirror as she started the car.
“Carlos said you didn’t eat this morning and barely ate anything before you went outside.”
“Yeah.” I set the box aside. “Still, I think I’ll save this for later.”
A wave of annoyance rolled over me as Winifred mumbled something about Jim. Then she shook her head and cut off the emotion.
“Sorry about that. So, what questions do you have?”
Now that it was time to start asking, I was nervous. Did I really want answers? I settled back into my seat as I decided it didn’t matter what I wanted. Ignorance would get me into trouble, not just with Carlos and the whole pull thing but with werewolves in general.
“Let’s start with what werewolves can do. I’ve noticed some differences. Obviously, you change forms, but when in your non-fuzzy form, you guys are hard to dent. Do you have thicker bones or something?”
“I don’t believe so, but it might explain why we’re harder to injure. We tend not to go to doctors for obvious reasons. Besides additional strength, we have better hearing, better vision, and quicker reflexes than humans. We generally heal faster, too.”
“Same with the Urbat?” I asked.
Winifred glanced at Bethi.
“Yeah,” Bethi said. “From what I’ve seen, werewolves and Urbat are about the same body-wise. Their differences seem to lie in their beliefs and values.”
I thought on that for a bit. It would have been nice if the werewolves had an upper hand, physically. Yet, it was better to be equals than the Urbat having the advantage.
Now to the harder questions. I glanced at Winifred and caught her watching me in the mirror. I heaved a sigh, hoping everything I said would stay with the two women in this car.
“When I said I’d help, I didn’t care who you all were or what was going on. I just wanted to get rid of this thing I do, so I could be with Ethan.”
I glanced down at my hands and tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. It took a few tries before I could speak again.
“But things changed. Before Ethan...” I cleared my throat, skirting around his death. “He noticed that all of us girls seemed to be paired up with one of you. Not long after he pointed that out, Michelle said something about a pull, and Bethi said something about biting.”
I lifted my eyes and met Winifred’s gaze.
“Am I supposed to be Carlos’ Mate?”
“Do you want to be?”
I shook my head in frustration.
“Don’t answer questions with questions. It’s annoying. According to your beliefs, does Carlos think he and I are supposed to be together?”