Part 4 (1/2)
As Sydney slowly emerged into consciousness, she became aware of a deep sense of warmth in the bed with her. As it was January, and William had the thermostat set at sixty at night because he insisted he slept better when it was cooler, Sydney expected to be cold, as usual, first thing in the morning.
But she wasn't. She was toasty and warm. And her body tingled in places that hadn't tingled very often in her life. The bed rumbled steadily, as if a distant train was chugging down the tracks. Or as if there was a cat sleeping with her. The steady rhythm made her drowsy again, and she snuggled more firmly against the source of the warmth and burrowed her head more deeply into her pillow, sighing contentedly.
When she felt a hand slip under her arm and cup her breast, she shot into a seated position so quickly, her head spun for a minute. She blinked away the white dots and glared at the person lying next to her.
”Get out of my bed,” she snapped at Gavin.
He rolled onto his back and stretched deeply. She turned her head away from the sight of his bare chest, with his taut and tempting muscles. He waited for her to look back again before he blatantly adjusted his crotch. She scowled.
”You were the one snuggling into me. I a.s.sumed you finally wanted to consummate our relations.h.i.+p.”
”You were warm. And I didn't know it was you. And what do you mean, 'finally'? We haven't even known each other for twenty-four hours.”
Gavin shrugged. ”Most Chala are more accommodating than you when they meet their mate.”
Sydney ignored that. ”Why are you in my bed in the first place? I did not invite you into my bed.” And he hadn't been there when she'd fallen asleep early, early this morning. A quick glance at the alarm clock told her she'd gotten only five hours of sleep last night. And she had to go into work this morning, and then work an event this evening. It was going to be a very long day.
”You're my mate. I have every right to sleep in your bed. I have every right to other things, too. Be glad I didn't demand my rights in that arena, as well.”
Sydney's face no doubt registered her horror. ”You would seriously rape me?”
Gavin gave her a disgruntled look in return. ”Of course not,” he snapped. And then he slyly added, ”You would enjoy it far too much to label it rape.”
She shoved him out of the bed, then clambered over the other side and was out of the room before he managed to untangle himself from the sheets. She stepped into the hall bathroom and then deliberately locked the door before taking a shower and preparing for the day.
Gavin was prowling the hall when she opened the door and allowed the steam to billow out. He scowled at her as he pushed past her and slammed the bathroom door behind him.
”Just so you know, I can get through these pitiful locks,” he called through the door. She was pretty sure he growled, too.
She rolled her eyes and returned to her bedroom to get dressed. After pulling on a pair of black slacks and a red and black polka dot b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt, she sat down at the vanity and fixed her hair and makeup. By the time she left her bedroom and wandered into the kitchen, Gavin sat at the counter, nursing a cup of black coffee, and William stood at the stove, making breakfast. He'd changed out of the muumuu and wore a bright yellow dress with a thin black belt and black piping at the neckline and hemline. His military-style buzz cut was covered by a wig comprised of shoulder-length black hair with severely straight cut bangs and a flip at the ends. He was a fifties' housewife with broad shoulders and a thick waist.
”I can do that, if you'd like,” Sydney offered as she poured herself a cup of coffee and doctored it with cream.
”I got it,” William said gruffly, so she reluctantly sat down on a stool next to Gavin.
She knew William tended to cook when he was upset, and he was not at all pleased to have Gavin in their lives. Well, that made two of them . . . sort of.
Gavin wore clothes obviously borrowed from William: a thermal waffle weave s.h.i.+rt that was two sizes too big and a pair of baggy jeans. His hair was spiky and still wet from a recent shower, and he hadn't bothered to shave. Sydney's heart rate quickened slightly, which annoyed her. She didn't want to be attracted to-to whatever he was.
One thing he wasn't: her mate. It wasn't a given. She had a right to choose her own partner in life. While she had-mostly-come to terms with everything else they told her last night, Sydney refused to accept that just because Gavin happened to lick her wound meant he was her mate.
Where was the romance in that? She, like most women, dreamed about the day she found her soul mate. In her dreams, her soul mate was romantic and sweet and loving and affectionate, showering her with attention and gifts and taking her out to dinner and plays, ice-skating in the winter and bike riding in the spring. He would adore her and compliment her, and she wouldn't be able to help but fall in love with him.
Curiously, her dreams never actually formulated a specific look for the fantasy soul mate. It was more about the way he treated her and romanced her and flirted with her than the way he actually looked. Looks, she felt, were far less important than the way her dream man treated her.
And then along came Gavin. He was as attractive and s.e.xy as the day was long, but he hadn't done anything in the way of romancing her, and he had yet to give her any sort of compliment. He'd licked her frigging arm and then declared her his mate. And he had such a thick, hard erection at the time that she imagined if she had suggested it, he would have banged her right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Sleazy and lecherous, definitely. Romantic and sweet? Not by a long shot.
They sat in silence until William turned around and with a flourish, slid two plates onto the counter in front of them. Each plate was laden with a giant omelet and a peeled orange. Gavin took a generous bite and said, ”Where's the meat?”
William smiled innocently.
”So do you guys eat humans because it's, like, a necessary part of your diet? Or is it really just for fun?” Sydney asked, truly curious.
Gavin devoured the vegetarian omelet and the orange and drank three cups of coffee. ”It's part sport and part sustenance. It's like killing a deer or an elk. Actually, the Rakshasa in Africa prefer the wild game to the humans. There's more sport to it, because there's fewer game. Plus, there are some diseases that make humans far less palatable. AIDS comes to mind.” He made a face.
”It's so weird to think that you used to want to hunt me down and eat me, and now you want to mate with me.”
”I still want to hunt you down and eat you,” Gavin qualified. ”Only now I want to eat a specific part of you. And if you ever suggest a game of chase, I'd probably last about five seconds after I caught you.”
Sydney turned away so he wouldn't see the way her cheeks flamed at the image his words provoked. The doorbell rang, and William strode through the room to check the front door. Gavin sniffed the air and started to slide off his stool. Sydney grabbed his arm and held him in place.
”What is it? Rakshasa? Did they find us?”
Gavin shrugged off her hand and shook his head. ”Not Rakshasa,” he muttered as he followed William. Not wis.h.i.+ng to miss the action, Sydney hurried after him.
”I know she's here,” she heard a male voice say, rather insistently. She did not recognize the voice.
”And how do you know she's here?” William asked. His full figure blocked the door, so that whoever was on the other side could not get past, but neither could Sydney see who it was.
”I can smell her.” She heard someone take a deep breath. ”Pheromones. She smells like heaven,” the man on the other side of the door crooned.
Gavin turned his head and lifted one eyebrow, a silent, mocking salute to, apparently, Sydney's pheromones. She a.s.sumed it was her pheromones the guy was talking about, since she was the only female in the house. William may dress like a woman, but she highly doubted he emitted anything close to pheromones. Although she wasn't too pleased with the idea that she did.
”Pheromones?” she asked Gavin. ”Can you really smell me?”
Gavin made a display of sniffing at her, leaning close and nuzzling her neck. She batted him away. ”Yep,” he said. ”I can smell you. Lavender, right?”
Sydney rolled her eyes.
”There she is!” William was forcibly shoved to the side by a man who was half his size. The man had s.h.a.ggy brown hair, an unshaven face, and a slight build. He looked rumpled, as if he'd slept in his clothes. But his pale blue eyes were glowing in the same way Gavin's had when he licked Sydney's wound yesterday.
”My mate!” The man literally dove at Sydney.
Gavin casually lifted his arm and clothes-lined him, sending the man sprawling on his back on the floor of the foyer.
”Gavin,” Sydney admonished as she pushed past him and kneeled next to the man, who cupped his neck and gasped for breath. ”I thought you were supposed to protect humanity?”
”He isn't human,” Gavin responded.
Sydney hesitated as she reached for the injured man. ”What is he?”
”Light One,” William supplied as he closed the front door. ”I told you she wasn't your mate,” he said to Gavin.
Gavin made a face. ”She is too my mate. But Light Ones are stupid. Until we consummate the relations.h.i.+p, they'll keep showing up, trying to prove themselves to her, hoping she'll reject me in favor of one of them.” He looked at her as if he were giving serious contemplation to hauling her back to the bedroom and just getting the deed over with.
”I can reject you?”
”No,” Gavin said flatly, and he kicked the s.h.i.+fter lying on the floor.
”Hey,” Sydney protested as she moved so she was between Gavin and the p.r.o.ne man. ”If you're really cursed, then how come you were able to hurt this guy?”