was lounging around the apartment, reading a new series I
had heard about online (just after setting up a gynecological
appointment—I did feel a little guilty about my carelessness) three days
after the night at the beach when Sierra came barging in. I hadn’t seen her in
three days either, and I did my best not to think of the possibility that she
was sleeping over at my mother’s house. I had been avoiding my mother’s calls,
pretending I was super busy, just to avoid confronting the reality of it.
“Hey,” she said with a smile, and I looked up at her from my
reclined position on the couch. I lowered my book and forced a smile back.
“Hey.”
“They tell me at work you can’t start until next week
because of family issues…so what the hell does that mean?” she asked, pushing
my legs over so she could sit beside me on the sofa. I could tell she wasn’t
teasing for once.
“Well…I guess we haven’t really talked about…stuff.” I tried
to fight my urge to be vague, but I couldn’t help it. It was weird, talking
about werewolves and demons with someone who wasn’t in the pack.
“Yeah,” Sierra turned away for a moment. “Stuff.”
“Okay, okay. I know I’ve been weird lately, I just have no
idea what Nick told you, or really anything that’s going on with your life,” I
admitted, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest. “I feel like so much has
gone on lately that I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Same here,” Sierra replied, biting her bottom lip and
turning her gaze back towards me.
“So…what do you know?” I asked, forcing myself to look her
straight in the eye.
“I know that they’re werewolves and Nick’s like…well, he
says he’s a demon , but he’s a good
one or something, and you’re Trent’s mate,” she laughed nervously at the last
bit. I forced a weak smile, but when she saw I wasn’t laughing back, I could
see a lump push down her throat. Clearly, I confirmed her fears.
“And that’s all?” I asked, my mouth and throat feeling dry.
“Well…basically. And that Aamir is part of some weird group
that doesn’t like werewolves.”
“Yeah. I mean, that pretty much covers it.” It felt weird,
talking about it so casually like we were talking about the weather. “I’m going
to make some coffee, want any?”
“Nah,” she said, “but I’ll join you in the kitchen for an
energy drink.”
I laughed a little, genuinely amused by Sierra’s gross
addiction. “Alright, let’s settle this weirdness over caffeine.”
She chuckled in return. “The preferred methods of
masochistic baristas.” She followed me into the tiny kitchen, and I as I set up
the coffee maker with a filter and ground coffee beans, she rummaged in the
fridge for a Red Bull. I knew her method by now even though I pretended to care
less—touch every can before deciding which was the coldest.
I flipped the red switch on the coffee machine just as she
popped the tab to her energy drink, taking a quick swig of the pungent, acidic
liquid before smiling my way.
“To bad this only gives me wings, because I’m pretty sure a
pair of those can’t do much for you if you’re in some kind of anti-werewolf
danger.”
I laughed, her joke actually warming me from the inside.
“You know, maybe they could. Maybe you could fly me out of a situation. And I’m
not a werewolf myself, you know,” I reminded her, giving her left shoulder a
playful push.
“I know,” she giggled, “at least, I think I know.”
Once our laughter subsided, I couldn’t help but continue on
with my string of burning questions. “So, I have to know, how is it that you
believe anything Nick told you? I mean, don’t you find all of this completely
insane?”
Sierra took another swig of her drink and nodded
thoughtfully. I could tell she was afraid to tell me something by the way her
eyes flitted back and forth nervously.
“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t believe him at first. But then…well,
he gave me my
had heard about online (just after setting up a gynecological
appointment—I did feel a little guilty about my carelessness) three days
after the night at the beach when Sierra came barging in. I hadn’t seen her in
three days either, and I did my best not to think of the possibility that she
was sleeping over at my mother’s house. I had been avoiding my mother’s calls,
pretending I was super busy, just to avoid confronting the reality of it.
“Hey,” she said with a smile, and I looked up at her from my
reclined position on the couch. I lowered my book and forced a smile back.
“Hey.”
“They tell me at work you can’t start until next week
because of family issues…so what the hell does that mean?” she asked, pushing
my legs over so she could sit beside me on the sofa. I could tell she wasn’t
teasing for once.
“Well…I guess we haven’t really talked about…stuff.” I tried
to fight my urge to be vague, but I couldn’t help it. It was weird, talking
about werewolves and demons with someone who wasn’t in the pack.
“Yeah,” Sierra turned away for a moment. “Stuff.”
“Okay, okay. I know I’ve been weird lately, I just have no
idea what Nick told you, or really anything that’s going on with your life,” I
admitted, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest. “I feel like so much has
gone on lately that I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Same here,” Sierra replied, biting her bottom lip and
turning her gaze back towards me.
“So…what do you know?” I asked, forcing myself to look her
straight in the eye.
“I know that they’re werewolves and Nick’s like…well, he
says he’s a demon , but he’s a good
one or something, and you’re Trent’s mate,” she laughed nervously at the last
bit. I forced a weak smile, but when she saw I wasn’t laughing back, I could
see a lump push down her throat. Clearly, I confirmed her fears.
“And that’s all?” I asked, my mouth and throat feeling dry.
“Well…basically. And that Aamir is part of some weird group
that doesn’t like werewolves.”
“Yeah. I mean, that pretty much covers it.” It felt weird,
talking about it so casually like we were talking about the weather. “I’m going
to make some coffee, want any?”
“Nah,” she said, “but I’ll join you in the kitchen for an
energy drink.”
I laughed a little, genuinely amused by Sierra’s gross
addiction. “Alright, let’s settle this weirdness over caffeine.”
She chuckled in return. “The preferred methods of
masochistic baristas.” She followed me into the tiny kitchen, and I as I set up
the coffee maker with a filter and ground coffee beans, she rummaged in the
fridge for a Red Bull. I knew her method by now even though I pretended to care
less—touch every can before deciding which was the coldest.
I flipped the red switch on the coffee machine just as she
popped the tab to her energy drink, taking a quick swig of the pungent, acidic
liquid before smiling my way.
“To bad this only gives me wings, because I’m pretty sure a
pair of those can’t do much for you if you’re in some kind of anti-werewolf
danger.”
I laughed, her joke actually warming me from the inside.
“You know, maybe they could. Maybe you could fly me out of a situation. And I’m
not a werewolf myself, you know,” I reminded her, giving her left shoulder a
playful push.
“I know,” she giggled, “at least, I think I know.”
Once our laughter subsided, I couldn’t help but continue on
with my string of burning questions. “So, I have to know, how is it that you
believe anything Nick told you? I mean, don’t you find all of this completely
insane?”
Sierra took another swig of her drink and nodded
thoughtfully. I could tell she was afraid to tell me something by the way her
eyes flitted back and forth nervously.
“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t believe him at first. But then…well,
he gave me my
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