I’d known that giving him the evening to think about it had been a mistake. I probably should have told Adam that Samuel was still staying with me as soon as I realized he didn’t know—but what we’d been experiencing tonight had still been too fragile for that.
So Adam got blindsided by Samuel The Live-in Lover.
“Not kind, Samuel,” I said, then turned to Adam. “He is staying here until he gets an apartment.” I looked at Samuel. “It should be really soon now.”
“I thought you had a practice in Montana, Dr. Cornick,” said Adam. He’d released me when the door opened, but then he’d put a hand low on my back—one of those staking-claim gestures that guys do around other guys.
Samuel nodded and stepped back, holding the door so that we’d all come inside. As soon as they were both in the enclosed space of my living room, I could smell the power rising from both of them.
“I was working at a clinic in rotation with three other doctors,” he said, leading the way into the kitchen. “They won’t suffer. I left Aspen Creek a while ago, and I’ve found now that I’ve returned I can’t settle in. So I thought I’d try someplace closer than Texas.”
Adam accepted a steaming cup and blew on it thoughtfully. “You mean you are petitioning to join my pack?”
Samuel’s smile, which hadn’t left his face since he opened the door, widened even farther. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m going lone wolf—you’ll probably get the official letter informing you of that from Bran sometime this week.”
I left them to it. They weren’t paying any attention to me anyway. I couldn’t get the dress off easily without help, but I pulled a pair of sweats on over the top of it. A loose sweatshirt covered my broken arm, strap-bearing torture device and all. Shoes were harder, but I found an old pair of tennis shoes that I hadn’t untied and pulled them on my feet over a pair of ankle socks.
When I went back out to the living room, both men were still involved in one of those pleasant but deadly conversations that usually ended up badly. They stopped speaking when I opened the front door, but as soon as I closed it behind me, I heard them start up again.
I was driving the van, because my Rabbit didn’t have power steering. I had to pull over a few miles from home so I could use the cell phone.
“Stefan,” I said. “Your parts are here. I’ve got a broken arm, so you’ll have to do all the work—but I can talk you through it.”
“How did you break your arm, Mercy?” he asked.
“A werewolf tossed me against a giant packing crate while I was trying to rescue a frightened young girl who’d been kidnapped by an evil witch and a drug lord.”
“It sounds interesting,” Stefan said. “I’ll meet you at your garage.”
See. Some people believe me.
About The Author
PATRICIA BRIGGS lived a fairly normal life until she learned to read. After that she spent lazy afternoons flying dragonback and looking for magic swords when she wasn’t horseback riding in the Rocky Mountains.
Once she graduated from Montana State University with degrees in history and German, she spent her time substitute teaching and writing. She and her family live in the Pacific Northwest, where she is hard at work on her newest project.
Visit her website at www.patriciabriggs.com.