Frostbitten
Page 6
I wish I could say that was that. God, I wish I could say it. But it wasn't, and the one person I could have talked to wasn't there, so the letter-every damned word of it-festered in my brain. Before I read it, I'd been off-kilter with Clay gone. Afterward, I seemed to stumble half blind through my days, ferociously fixated on whatever goal I was pursuing, be it making breakfast for the kids or chasing Reese, not daring to rest, knowing rest only brought back memories and fears and rage I thought long since vanquished.
Not vanquished, it seems. Just shoved into willful forgetfulness. And now it was back, and I couldn't forget, no matter how hard I tried.
I was just settling into the second plane, about to turn off my cell phone when it rang.
"Morning, darling," came a familiar southern drawl.
I straightened. "Hey, you. I hear we're going to Alaska."
"We are. Looking forward to it?"
"I'm not arguing the order, that's for sure. Now we just need to get the business part of the trip out of the way, so we can take advantage of the locale. Miles and miles of unexplored wilderness. It'll definitely make up for two weeks of short, crappy runs alone."
"So that's what you want me back for? A running partner?"
"Of course. What else?"
"I can think of a few things." Clay's drawl turned to a low growl that set me shivering. "If you can work it into your busy run schedule."
"I'm sure I can. Before the runs. After the runs. Any other time we get a spare minute… "
He laughed. "You do miss me."
"I do."
A moment of silence. "Just a sec. I think we had a bad connection. I could have sworn you admitted-"
"I miss you. Horribly. I can't wait to see you."
"They're serving the booze already, aren't they?"
"Ha-ha. Keep that up and I'll never say it again."
"The question is whether you'd say it if I was there."
"No, because if you were here, I'd be in your lap, wondering how we could slip into the bathroom."
"Tease," he growled.
My head shot up. I could have sworn I heard that growl… and not just through my phone. I scoured the aisle, but there were only a few passengers still boarding, none of them Clay. Still, I scanned the first-class section. No familiar blond curls peeked over any of the seats.
"Elena?"
"Sorry." I pushed back the stab of disappointment. "So when does your flight get in?"
"Around eight."
"I'll wait at the terminal for you, then."
The attendants started making the preflight rounds. We said good-bye and I turned off my phone. As I settled into my seat, I fought off that lingering disappointment. It'd been so good to hear his voice that I'd even felt that slow wave of calm that comes whenever he enters a room, a deep instinct telling me I could relax now, that my mate was close.
As I tucked my bag under the seat, I caught that feeling again and picked up a scent as familiar as my own. I twisted to see Clay looming over the back of my seat.
"Can't fool you, can I?" he said.
I grabbed him by the shirtfront, nearly yanking him over the seat as I pulled him into a kiss.
"I definitely need to go away more often," he said as I let him go.
"Absolutely not, unless it's a trip for two."
"Agreed."
He came around and took the seat beside mine. I should have wondered when Jeremy insisted on booking my flight, then said he could only get me into first class. Clay hates coach-can't stand being that close to strangers.
"I believe I heard something about sitting on my lap-" he began.
I shot onto it and was kissing him before he finished the sentence. His eyes widened before he recovered enough to kiss me back.
To say I'm not one for public displays of affection is an understatement. But over the years I've come to care less about what strangers think, and Clay has made equal strides to care more… or at least learned to act as if he does. So I sat in his lap and kissed him, and he didn't snarl at the woman across the aisle when she started harrumphing and glowering, and all was good.
"Now, how about that bathroom trip," Clay said as I slid back into my seat.
I looked up at the first-class bathroom… past two flight attendants and six rows of passengers, all facing it.
"You know, it always looks so much easier in the movies."
He laughed and fastened his seat belt. "So this was a good surprise, I take it?"
"A great one."
He blinked, genuinely surprised, and I felt a prickle of guilt. Clay and I had our issues-huge ones that had kept us apart for ten years. I'd grown so accustomed to holding him at arm's length that even now, I suppose in some ways I still did. I was quick to say a casual "miss you" on the phone, but never a heartfelt "Hey. I really, really miss you."
He knew I'd really missed him. It just threw him to hear the words. Another thing I needed to work on.
As the plane lifted off, I brought Clay up to date on the possible wolf kills. Yes, our fellow passengers could hear us, but no one eavesdrops on a conversation like that and thinks "Oh my God, they're talking about werewolves!"
There had been two deaths so far. Both had been men out alone traipsing through the Alaskan wilderness at night, which seems to be natural selection at work, as much as African tourists who decide to camp beside watering holes.
The first victim had been a New Age Vancouverite on a spirit quest, fasting in a teepee. The second was an ex-con stealing from traps. Really, could you blame the wolves for thinking these two would make a nice late-winter feast?
The authorities were blaming a single man-eating wolf. At the site of both killings, they'd found the tracks of a huge canine. Werewolves change into very large wolves, retaining their body mass. And outside the Pack, most are loners.
Still, that didn't mean it was a werewolf. It just bore looking into, as long as we were going to Alaska for other reasons.
By the time I finished my explanation, dinner was served. Given the hour, most passengers stuck to drinks and peanuts, but no were wolf turned down food, however strange the time. While we ate, Clay talked about the symposium. Then I gave him another update-this one on Reese Williams.
Again, our conversation might sound odd to anyone listening, but as long as we didn't mention the W word, they'd fluff off my talk of fights and chases as a movie plot discussion. Most people were asleep anyway, as was I after dinner and a glass of wine.
Not vanquished, it seems. Just shoved into willful forgetfulness. And now it was back, and I couldn't forget, no matter how hard I tried.
I was just settling into the second plane, about to turn off my cell phone when it rang.
"Morning, darling," came a familiar southern drawl.
I straightened. "Hey, you. I hear we're going to Alaska."
"We are. Looking forward to it?"
"I'm not arguing the order, that's for sure. Now we just need to get the business part of the trip out of the way, so we can take advantage of the locale. Miles and miles of unexplored wilderness. It'll definitely make up for two weeks of short, crappy runs alone."
"So that's what you want me back for? A running partner?"
"Of course. What else?"
"I can think of a few things." Clay's drawl turned to a low growl that set me shivering. "If you can work it into your busy run schedule."
"I'm sure I can. Before the runs. After the runs. Any other time we get a spare minute… "
He laughed. "You do miss me."
"I do."
A moment of silence. "Just a sec. I think we had a bad connection. I could have sworn you admitted-"
"I miss you. Horribly. I can't wait to see you."
"They're serving the booze already, aren't they?"
"Ha-ha. Keep that up and I'll never say it again."
"The question is whether you'd say it if I was there."
"No, because if you were here, I'd be in your lap, wondering how we could slip into the bathroom."
"Tease," he growled.
My head shot up. I could have sworn I heard that growl… and not just through my phone. I scoured the aisle, but there were only a few passengers still boarding, none of them Clay. Still, I scanned the first-class section. No familiar blond curls peeked over any of the seats.
"Elena?"
"Sorry." I pushed back the stab of disappointment. "So when does your flight get in?"
"Around eight."
"I'll wait at the terminal for you, then."
The attendants started making the preflight rounds. We said good-bye and I turned off my phone. As I settled into my seat, I fought off that lingering disappointment. It'd been so good to hear his voice that I'd even felt that slow wave of calm that comes whenever he enters a room, a deep instinct telling me I could relax now, that my mate was close.
As I tucked my bag under the seat, I caught that feeling again and picked up a scent as familiar as my own. I twisted to see Clay looming over the back of my seat.
"Can't fool you, can I?" he said.
I grabbed him by the shirtfront, nearly yanking him over the seat as I pulled him into a kiss.
"I definitely need to go away more often," he said as I let him go.
"Absolutely not, unless it's a trip for two."
"Agreed."
He came around and took the seat beside mine. I should have wondered when Jeremy insisted on booking my flight, then said he could only get me into first class. Clay hates coach-can't stand being that close to strangers.
"I believe I heard something about sitting on my lap-" he began.
I shot onto it and was kissing him before he finished the sentence. His eyes widened before he recovered enough to kiss me back.
To say I'm not one for public displays of affection is an understatement. But over the years I've come to care less about what strangers think, and Clay has made equal strides to care more… or at least learned to act as if he does. So I sat in his lap and kissed him, and he didn't snarl at the woman across the aisle when she started harrumphing and glowering, and all was good.
"Now, how about that bathroom trip," Clay said as I slid back into my seat.
I looked up at the first-class bathroom… past two flight attendants and six rows of passengers, all facing it.
"You know, it always looks so much easier in the movies."
He laughed and fastened his seat belt. "So this was a good surprise, I take it?"
"A great one."
He blinked, genuinely surprised, and I felt a prickle of guilt. Clay and I had our issues-huge ones that had kept us apart for ten years. I'd grown so accustomed to holding him at arm's length that even now, I suppose in some ways I still did. I was quick to say a casual "miss you" on the phone, but never a heartfelt "Hey. I really, really miss you."
He knew I'd really missed him. It just threw him to hear the words. Another thing I needed to work on.
As the plane lifted off, I brought Clay up to date on the possible wolf kills. Yes, our fellow passengers could hear us, but no one eavesdrops on a conversation like that and thinks "Oh my God, they're talking about werewolves!"
There had been two deaths so far. Both had been men out alone traipsing through the Alaskan wilderness at night, which seems to be natural selection at work, as much as African tourists who decide to camp beside watering holes.
The first victim had been a New Age Vancouverite on a spirit quest, fasting in a teepee. The second was an ex-con stealing from traps. Really, could you blame the wolves for thinking these two would make a nice late-winter feast?
The authorities were blaming a single man-eating wolf. At the site of both killings, they'd found the tracks of a huge canine. Werewolves change into very large wolves, retaining their body mass. And outside the Pack, most are loners.
Still, that didn't mean it was a werewolf. It just bore looking into, as long as we were going to Alaska for other reasons.
By the time I finished my explanation, dinner was served. Given the hour, most passengers stuck to drinks and peanuts, but no were wolf turned down food, however strange the time. While we ate, Clay talked about the symposium. Then I gave him another update-this one on Reese Williams.
Again, our conversation might sound odd to anyone listening, but as long as we didn't mention the W word, they'd fluff off my talk of fights and chases as a movie plot discussion. Most people were asleep anyway, as was I after dinner and a glass of wine.
