Page 31 of Fighting Fate (Monsters of London #4)
Dax
Even if I couldn’t spend any time with Vince tonight, I’m glad to be over at Kieran’s. The flat is full, again, and the constant hum of noise is enough to drown out my thoughts. I have to find the perfect time to tell Vince, and I’m not certain how to do that.
“Come on,” Drew says when the table’s been put away and the sofa pushed back into place. “Wanna hang out for a while?”
“Yeah, sure.” Patch is at work, so our flat is empty. What’s the point in going back to that?
Drew grins at me, and I follow him over to the sofa. He drops down at one end and I gingerly take the other, even though I’m certain it’ll take our combined weight. Kieran’s on the phone, pacing around, while Lucien watches him from the kitchen.
Sam drops into Drew’s lap as Drew puts Bridgerton on, and I settle back into my seat. Ophelia lifts her head when she hears the opening credits—she’s sitting on the floor with Quinn and Dante and Adam, even though there are enough seats for all of us.
“I thought we were going to watch the new series together?” Ophelia asks.
“It’s not out yet,” Drew says with a faint blush. “I thought it might be a fun re-watch.”
“It is, sweetheart,” Sam replies, and it sounds like a reflex, but I see the way he looks at his mate. Drew smiles shyly and Sam kisses under his chin.
I want Patch to come to dinner here one night. Want him to see what this pack is like up close. All he’s heard—all we’ve heard—is that Kieran isn’t to be messed with and that Sam is the most dangerous mage London has seen for a while. Everything’s a threat, or at least, not friendly.
I’ve hardly met a pack as gentle as this one.
“We’ve watched this about five times now,” Sam says, and I jolt when I realise he’s talking to me.
“You have?”
Drew’s blush deepens. “I like it,” he mutters.
“I know you do. So do I,” Sam replies. “Have you seen it, Dax?”
“Yeah, some of it, anyway.” I’ve watched the entire thing three times through, maybe. I’m not as much of a fan of period pieces as Drew is, but romance films are my favourites.
I think of lying on the sofa with Vince as we watched that horror film. I don’t enjoy those, but it was less scary with Vince there.
“Drew’s a sucker for Kate and Anthony,” Sam says, laughing when Drew wriggles beneath him. “I wonder why.”
“Yeah, you haven’t seen Drew’s competitive side yet,” Adam says from the floor.
“I’m not that bad,” Drew protests.
“Not as bad as Kieran, sure,” Sam concedes, and Kieran glares from the other side of the room. He’s finished his phone call now, but he’s texting and quickly turns his attention back to the screen.
“You’re just salty you never win,” he snaps back, and Sam shakes his head with another laugh.
“Patch is just as bad,” I say and look at Drew. “Kate’s his favourite, too. He can’t work out why.”
“Wolves,” Sam mutters, but his voice is still fond. Drew laughs and nudges me with his shoulder before he settles into his seat properly.
We watch the first episode of the second series, clearly Drew’s favourite, and even Kieran and Lucien drift over to join us. The episode ends, the other queuing up to begin, and Adam looks up at Sam and Drew again.
“Okay, which character would you be?”
“What?” Drew asks.
Adam shrugs. “Which character are you? From the show?”
“I-I don’t know…”
“Oh, Drew’s our diamond for sure ,” Sam says, and the look he shoots Drew is all heat.
Ophelia stifles a laugh; clearly, all three of them are distracted now. “You’re Benedict, you arse,” she says to Adam, then looks at me. “What about you, Dax? You’ve seen enough of the show to have an idea, right?”
“Uh…” I rub the back of my neck, trying to think about it. Anthony’s a bit of a fool, but he’s competent enough to kind of run everything. Benedict’s talented and quick-witted, even if he is funny. I’m not really any of those things. I tap my fingers against my thigh, and say without thinking, “Maybe one of the Featheringtons?”
“Oh!” Drew says, attention snapping back to us again. He eyes me for a moment. “Pen? I could see it.”
“No, she’s way too—” Clever, I don’t say. “No, one of the sisters, I mean.” They’re petty, which I try not to be, but nice enough and not altogether that smart. The looks the other characters give them sometimes—exasperated, pitying—are looks I’ve received before.
My words are met with silence and stares all round. Heat floods my face.
Sam scowls. “Why? They’re so… mean. Especially earlier in the show.”
“I’m not—I know I’m not that.”
Kieran’s sitting in Lucien’s lap, but he leans forward now, concern in his expression. “Then where’re the similarities, Dax? Because I’m not seeing them.”
My skin prickles with humiliation. I did this to myself. I should leave, right? I’ve made things awkward, and there’s no taking back what I just said.
Sam reaches out and squeezes my forearm. “Dax? What’s the deal?”
“You know I’m not… I’m not very smart. Like them.”
He frowns again, and I’m sure I’m imagining the confusion that floods his scent. Not that I should be trying to catch his scent at all, but I’m breathing too fast and it’s impossible to avoid.
After a moment, Sam snorts but doesn’t let go of my arm. “You’re smarter than most of the wolves I’ve met, that’s for sure.”
“I’m not.” I flounder, Sam’s grip the only thing keeping me talking. “I don’t know—I didn’t even know the difference between witches and mages until Dante told me.”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Kieran doesn’t even know that.”
Kieran scowls, then purses his lips and turns his gaze up to the ceiling. “It’s not an easy thing to remember.”
Sam snickers, but the air in the room is still heavy.
“You are clever, Dax,” Kieran says, and his voice sounds gentle at first, but there’s a thread of steel beneath. “Whoever’s told you that you aren’t is wrong. And a dick.”
I don’t dare look at the others. I drop my eyes to the floor and nod before I get to my feet. Sam’s hand falls away.
“I should—I should go. Thanks for having me over. It was fun.” The words all come out in a monotone rush, but I can’t be rude. It’s not their fault I embarrassed myself.
Ophelia makes a sound of protest, as does Drew, but I can’t look at either of them. I snatch my shoes up and jam them on, and I don’t realise Kieran’s right on my heels until we’re in the hall and the door closes.
“Dax,” he says, and I freeze with my back to him. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, throat tight. “I should head back and see if Patch is home. I’ve not been there a lot lately.”
“Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t believe me. “Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. And it’s not something we ever need to talk about again if you think it’s too much, or it’s insulting or whatever.”
I glance back at him, my curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
“I’d like you to stay.”
“I really have to go check on Patch.”
“No, I mean…” Kieran smiles faintly, and I know he’s not laughing at me or anything, but my eyes prickle all the same. “I mean, I want you to stay in my pack , Dax. Or at least consider it. If you could?”
Words fail me. I’ve only been seriously considering leaving my pack since Millie spoke about it. Maybe a little after that. I shake my head.
“Why would you… You don’t want me here.” He has the most powerful coven in London—hell, the only coven, as far as anyone knows. His mate was a chieftain in the vampire clan and sired the other vampire in his pack. Quinn might be fragile, but he and Drew are both opponents not to underestimate, I can tell. Sure, I’m a big wolf, and I can fight, but what else can I offer? I’ve worked service jobs in Axel’s pack, and I’m not even good at those.
“I do,” Kieran says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “And so does everyone else, in case you were wondering. It’s not about what you can do for us, Dax. That’s not what pack’s about.”
“Isn’t it?”
The smile he gives me is soft and knowing.
“It shouldn’t be.”
“I really should—I have to go.”
“Just think about it, please? You’ll be welcome here either way, but there’s a long-term place for you, if you want it.”
“Yeah, okay.” I need to leave. Kieran sighs like he knows it, and I all but run down the stairs and burst out into the fading evening light. I’m breathing like I’ve run a marathon. I don’t know what to do.
I shove my hand in my pocket and my fingers close around the familiar shape of my phone.
Maybe Vince will know. Maybe he can help me work out what to do.