Page 73 of Tempting Fate

Chapter Thirty

Emerson

Patch texts me back to say he’s busy the next day. Then he has work, and other things come up, and by the time Sunday rolls around, I’ve barely seen Jamie, either.

I’m no closer to coming to a decision about what I’m going to do. It feels like they’re both pulling back, pulling away, so maybe I fucked up even more than I thought.

I’ve seen my wolf again, though. I’ve been out the last three nights in a row, and each time it comes closer and closer, and even if it’s not actually a werewolf, then it’s the smartest animal I’ve ever seen.

I sleep in, waking only when I hear Nick and Jamie arrive home, chatting to each other. Jamie sounds happier than he has in days. I stay in my room, making no noise at all so they’ll think I’m out, and ignore the text Nick sends me, asking if I want to eat with them.

A few hours later, they go out again. To dinner, maybe, with Dax and Vince and Drew and the others. My heart clenches. It’s only been a few weeks, so I shouldn’t be so caught up in it, but maybe I don’t fit here the way I thought I might. It’s not like I’ve been invited along, even though all their friends seem to go.

I dress about an hour after they leave. I’ve become more careless when heading out, and I think they might have heard me. Best to go now, spend some time walking around, and I’ll make sure I’m extra careful when I come back in.

They’ll never have to know. And if I’m extremely lucky, I’ll get evidence of my werewolf.

Or my wolf, at least.

I don’t switch on the camera until I’m a few streets from our house—best to never give away where I live—and then I make sure it’s connected to my phone. The streets are quiet in the way early Sunday evenings are, so I’m not recording anyone but myself as I open a social media app and hit the button to livestream.

“Good evening,” I say, feeling as silly as I do every time I do this. I’m talking to no one, except I can see a handful of people are already watching the stream. A couple are already leaving not-very-helpful comments, which is always fun. “So I’m in London at the moment. Someone sent me a helpful email that there might be a werewolf here. And, while I’ve not seen that, I have seen something just as interesting…”

I chatter away while I walk, ignoring the occasionally—very occasionally, like I’m hardly the strangest sight today—confused looks I get when I come across a passerby. It goes dark as I’m explaining, as I’m approaching the spot where I keep seeing my wolf.

I normally see him far later than this, but I have the strangest feeling I’ll see him tonight all the same. Like he’s waiting for me. Like there’s some connection between us. I don’t say any of that to the livestream. That’s just asking for trouble. Instead, I talk about some of the research I’ve done on wolves, on the history of werewolves, and other creatures that can shapeshift.

“In one Irish tradition, saying the name of the afflicted would be enough to bring them back to themselves,” I say as I round the corner where I usually see my wolf. “I don’t know if that’s the case here, and sadly, I don’t know our werewolf’s name to even try it. Or the wolf’s, for that matter.”

I see a comment and chuckle.

“Yes, I suppose it could be someone’s lost pet. He’s a bit big for that, though. You’ll see if he turns up tonight.”

Cate is texting me. Of course she’ll have had an alert that I started a livestream. I meant to ring her and warn her, but it’s been such a weird day that the thought didn’t cross my mind until just now.

Are you joking, Em?

This is dangerous!

What if you get bitten?

I ignore the texts. The wolf won’t bite me. He hasn’t so far, and there’s no reason that should change tonight.

Something moves in the shadows and I go still. I lower my voice. “There’s something…”

The wolf pads out onto the street. He cocks his head, giving me that same inquisitive look he always does, and for the first time, I crouch, trying to coax him over.

“Come on,” I mutter. I don’t want to talk too much and risk scaring him off. My phone vibrates in my hand, whether from livestream comments or Cate’s texts or both. I shove it into my pocket. “Come on.”

The wolf huffs and walks over. No hesitation. He pushes his muzzle against my palm, and I let out a strangled laugh, one that likely sounds more like a sob.

I’ll get shit for that later, comments about how I sound, who I probably am. I’ve never shown my face on a stream. I don’t ever plan to.

The wolf stands there for a while, then takes a deliberate step back, staring up at me. I stand up again. He starts walking away.

“Wait, I—”

He huffs, stops, stares at me, then keeps walking.