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The woman thankfully doesn’t notice anything, too distracted by her friend’s disappearance to pay much attention to us any longer. Tamira is a good friend, obviously. Not throwing herself at us or prioritizing gaining our attention over worrying about why Mabel felt the need to run.
But as much as I respect that, I’m also starting to lose it.
I need to go after Mabel. Find her. Learn everything about her and pray to the gods I don’t even give a shit about that she’ll agree to be ours.
Slithering sensations course beneath my skin. Our mate, Ghastly hisses.
My eyes dart to Phineas and Huck. There’s never been a question that the three of us would share someone, if we could. I just never suspected we’d find our fulcrum here. We’d simply been in town on business, for the gods’ sakes, and stopped at Final Toast for a drink because supernatural guidebooks recommended the place. If everything had gone according to my plan, we would’ve been out of town by sunrise.
No chance of that now.
“I, uh…” Tamira flashes us a distracted smile. “I should probably go see if she’s?—”
Now I move. I can’t help it. No one is going after Mabel but us.
For everyone’s sake.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I say, slipping past Huck quickly and rising from the table. In my haste, I let my limbs bend in ways that would have a human calling 911, but the woman isn’t looking in my direction, so she misses the slip. “We needed to head out anyhow.”
I take her forearm, my smile never flickering out of place, and let a trace of Ghastly’s power run through my fingertips.
She rocks a bit, but my hold on her keeps her from falling. Her brow furrows, confusion in her eyes. Guilt tugs at me for both, but I’m hanging onto Ghastly by my fingernails at this point, and this is by far the better option compared to what will happen if my Hyde escapes my control and chases Mabel on his own.
“Go to the bar and get yourself a drink,” I say, letting how much I want her to do that pour through my contact with her skin. “Everything’s fine.“
To her credit, she doesn’t move right away. Her determination to help Mabel is so strong, it makes her falter, shaking her head. “No, I should?—”
“Please. It’s okay. Just go to the bar.”
Gods, I’m begging her, even if only on the inside. But the strength of my need to be the one who goes after Mabel finally wins out. Still looking baffled, Tamira turns away, starting toward the bar like she doesn’t understand why she’s walking in that direction.
But it’s good enough. I take off through the crowd.
“That was fucking dangerous,” Phineas growls at me, his long legs catching up to me in a heartbeat.
Behind me, Huck makes a worried sound of agreement. “We don’t hurt people. Good people, I mean. She seems like good people.”
“She is. And I didn’t hurt her. The effect will wear off in a few minutes and she’ll be fine. Confused, but fine.”
Even without looking at him, I can feel the hurt radiating off Huck. “We don’t make people do things,” he insists.
Fuck, now I feel like scum. There’s history in his voice, and a tinge of disappointment with me besides, and it burns.
Huck has too much experience with being forced to do things. Too much by far. And while yeah, normally he’s okay with Ghastly’s powers, that’s only in the context of using them on him, given how they help him with his nightmares and how it feels when we fuck.
In other words, when I have his consent.
“This isn’t like that,” I tell him. “I swear. Would you rather we were chasing Mabel down with her friend in tow? What if we lose control? Or what if Tamira doesn’t even know what Mabel is?”
That shuts them up.
It doesn’t feel like a win, though. There’s a reason people hate the Ghastlies almost as much as they hated the Bloodies, back before that family line died out.
Silently, I promise myself I’ll make it up to the guys—and Tamira—as soon as I can.
We pass the bar, and then the bathrooms, and at every location, Phineas only shakes his head.
She hadn’t stayed indoors. She’d been so spooked, she ran all the way to the street.
