Chapter Three

A tentative peace is reached.

Rose had managed to stay in the attic. At least, until she got hungry. The desire for food won over the desire to stay away from the monster, though she stayed as far away from the werewolf’s room as possible as she dashed back down all those flights of stairs. The kitchen was the biggest room in the house, if you didn’t count the training room, a big stainless steel production with granite countertops and marble floors. It was made big in case they made a deal with a sorcerer, which was becoming more and more common. Rose, as far as she knew, had never dealt with one of those demon-infested fools.

“Food, food, food.” She muttered to herself. Rose searched through the fridge, settling on the leftovers of Austin’s culinary creation of the night before. Unlike her, Austin could do something more than boil water. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together. He’d been teaching her, little by little, but she wasn’t good at anything that wasn’t a jumbled, chaotic mix of ingredients, and she wanted something different than that.

Humming, Rose popped the dish in the microwave and gave it a minute to warm up. She hopped up onto the counter when it was done, legs swinging with the container on her lap. Time passed, and she kept looking at the clock, a frown slowly forming. It shouldn’t have taken Austin that long to run to the corner store and grab a bottle of tequila. Ten minutes at the most, if there was a cashier that didn’t know him. It had been three times that long, and a knot began to form in Rose’s stomach. She suddenly couldn’t eat, and she dropped the container on the counter.

“I knew that was food I smelled.” The werewolf’s voice coming from the entrance to the kitchen made Rose jump and squeak, causing her to nearly fall off the counter. She was too worried to give him the usual lethal glare. Rose merely slid the container down the counter to him. He gave her a look that said he knew something was wrong, since she wasn’t busy insulting him, but he dug into the food with a shrug. The way he ate assured her that he never got quite enough, and probably went hungry more than he got his fill.

“What’s wrong?” Rowen asked when he was finished. Rose looked at him, the look in her eyes undecipherable. She debated whether to tell him or not, and decided it didn’t matter.

“I sent Austin out to get something. He should be back. He’s not.” She said tersely, her legs ceasing their swinging. Rowen looked worried, probably because he feared Rose wouldn’t let him live long if Austin was not there to hold her back. He swallowed thickly and put the fork down, looking as uninterested in eating as Rose had. She hopped down off the counter, landing lightly, and started to pace the length of the kitchen. If she hadn’t been on the side closest to the door, she never would have heard the knocking. It was so faint she almost ignored it, but it came again, barely stronger, and she knew in her heart who it was.

“Austin!” she gasped. Without another word she ran for the door, feet flying. Rowen followed behind her more cautiously, peeking around the corner.

Rose threw the door open to find Austin leaning against the doorframe. He looked pale, and the reason for that was obvious when she looked down to find the blood that was still flowing from the deep wounds in his torso. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, muffling her scream. Austin laughed, a rattling, hoarse sound.

“No need to worry. Just get me inside before I pass out.” He said faintly. Rose couldn’t move, her heart in her throat making it difficult to breathe. Rowen pushed her gently to the side and helped Austin totter into the house, wincing with every step.

“I need a place to put him, Rose.” Rowen said, stress in his voice. He understood how bad the wounds were, could smell the amount of blood that had soaked Austin’s clothes. Austin was only human, for all that he had the powers of a Guardian, and if they didn’t help him soon he might bleed to death. Rose still stood by the door, paralyzed.

“Catherine, move that tiny a*s of yours and show him to the infirmary.” Austin said, his voice horribly breathy and pained. His use of the name she despised snapped Rose out of it. She snarled at him, making Rowen hide a smile, and rushed ahead of them. Rowen followed her with Austin sagging against him, his strength flagging. Rose flung the door open so hard it hit the wall and rebounded, coming close to hitting her. Pointing to one of many cots lined up against the walls, she flitted between the cupboards on the walls, grabbing things down. When she was done, there was a pile of the things she would need to help Austin. When it came down to it, though, she looked down at him with her lip torn by her own teeth, pressing her lips together like she was trying not to try.

“Just let the mutt do it.” Austin said faintly. Rose made a choked, protesting noise, but Rowen was already moving her out of the way. She sat down on the bed next to Austin, and took his hand when he held it out between them. She bent over his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm in their old gesture for good luck. They hadn’t done it since her eighteenth birthday, for reasons neither of them liked to remember, and it gave Austin the strength he needed to get through the painful process of being sown back up.

“There. Those stitches should hold if you don’t go do back flips off of buildings.” Rowen said as he walked over to the nearest of many sinks. His hands were covered in blood, and he had to scrub them for a couple of minutes to get them all off. In that time, Rose had retrieved a washcloth and a warm bowl of water from one of the other sinks and was gently wiping the blood off Austin’s chest and stomach. There were tears in her eyes as she did it, and Rowen finally understood just how frightened she had been that she would lose Austin. She bent low over him when he beckoned for it, and he said something that made her laugh through the tears. Rose dropped a kiss on Austin’s forehead, and his expression said he treasured it more than she realized.

Rowen turned away, his gut burning with feelings he would never have recognized if he hadn’t spent so long ignoring them. Because of her. He took up a hand towel and dried his hands quickly and thoroughly, checking for blood under his nails. Finding none, he walked out of the room without a word.

“What’s his problem?” Rose muttered when the wolf walked out, his spine stiff. Austin didn’t look, his eyes still on Rose.

“He has the same problem we all do.” He answered Rose softly. She gave him a puzzled frown. Austin only shook his head, still not understanding how oblivious his partner in crime could be. He struggled to a sitting position while Rose yelped a protest. “I’m not going to break.” He said dryly. “Help me up. I don’t want to stay in here, it smells too much like cleaner.”

Rose did as he asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She put an arm around his waist, careful to keep away from any of those horrible cuts, and brought him out to the sitting room. Austin stumbled his way to the chair closest to the fire and sank down into it, his eyes half closing. He was just as exhausted as Rose had been only an hour ago. Now she was the one brimming with energy, even if it was just adrenaline and would fade soon.

“I’m going to get you-” Rose was interrupted by another knock at the door. She put her hands in her hair, growling out her frustration. “What the hell! Is there a sign on our door that says come and bug us?” she hissed, making Austin laugh. She scowled at him and stalked to the front door.

Rowen followed behind her, wound up tight. There was a low growl coming out of his throat, and he didn’t look happy. “Rose, don’t open the door.” He said, flexing his hands to keep his claws from coming out.

“Why not?” she froze with her hand on the doorknob. Even she knew better to ignore the warning of a werewolf. At least until he told her what was bothering him.

“The person on the other side smells weird.” Was Rowen’s explanation. Rose’s frown dissolved into a tiny smile.

“Let’s hope it’s someone who wants to hurt us. Killing is the best therapy.” She muttered under her breath. Rowen, of course, heard it, but he didn’t comment on it. He merely stayed just behind her, on alert. If he had been in his wolf form, his fur would have been bristling. Rose gave him a piercing look, warning him to control himself, and threw the door open.

Her heart stopped. But Rose had no idea why. The man other the other side of the door was handsome, yes. He was tall and broad, with noble features. His brilliant red hair streaked through with the same ashen color Rose’s was naturally was striking, and those green eyes were gem bright and captivating. It wasn’t any of that which made Rose’s heart stutter before trying to leap out her mouth.

“Who the hell are you and what the hell do you want?” she asked, using her anger to cover up how unsteady the man made her.

The man’s mouth twisted up into a breathtaking smile, and he fell to his knees before her. Rose’s eyes widened as she looked down at the beautiful man on her front porch. “My name is Thierry Castwell. I am here for you, my Queen.”