Page 18 of New Nebraska Home (New Nebraska)

Liz

GREEN CAN BE A TELLING COLOR

A nother knock came from the front door. I hung my head in exhaustion. After the last few days since the cop came, I was convinced nothing good would come through that front door.

After all the excitement with the police, Malik had taken Leif outside each day to practice self-defense. Malik and I still hadn’t talked about our heated moment that Brock had interrupted with a discussion about trying to tap further into Leif’s Fae abilities. It was like Malik was worried I wouldn’t really want him, and he had a sad look about him every time he watched one of my interactions with the other guys.

Brock and Cal were currently downstairs, and I sat at the kitchen table, tired and confused, while I searched for a job again.

Well, I pretended to search for a job. I spent most of the time staring out the window, watching Malik and Leif. I tried to keep my eyes on my baby brother, but they kept drifting to Malik. He was shirtless in the sun, his tanned skin glistening with sweat. I could even see the beads of sweat rolling down his thick arms and muscled abs.

God, he looked good. He was huge, thick, and so damn strong. My mind wandered, and I wondered if other parts of his anatomy were as thick. Then I shook the thought from my head and took a long sip of my cold water.

It didn’t help.

Malik was still standing out there looking like the big, bad protector from one of the Highlander books I used to read. A man built by the gods to be a warrior. If that wasn’t sexy enough, he was also a gentle giant. He was so good with my brother. He was patient and sweet. I was amazed his size alone didn’t scare off Leif, but it didn’t. He was out there learning everything he could.

I hated that my sweet, innocent baby brother needed to know how to throw a punch, but I loved that Malik was being so patient with him, and it looked like Leif was actually having fun.

He was learning pretty fast, too.

Malik took his time showing Leif how to stand and keep his center strong and the right way to put his weight behind the punch. Of course, I’d had some basic self-defense lessons when I was a few years older than Leif too, but mine were to protect myself from perverts who felt like it was okay to touch a girl. After really thinking about it, I didn’t suppose Leif’s case was that much different. He was training for how to protect himself from grown adults who thought it was okay to harm a child.

Because of who his parents were, they didn’t see my little brother as a person deserving of respect. Just like assholes who tried to lay their hands on innocent girls, didn’t see girls or women as people who deserve respect.

I doubted the members of the Temple felt any different about me. It was hard to tell if it was just because I was human or because I was a human with several men of different species living under my roof. When it came right down to it, it didn’t matter. Ignorant hatred was ignorant hatred no matter the cause, and wasting my time pondering the specifics wouldn’t do a damn bit of good.

There were more important things I could overthink.

My head was still spinning from confusion from my dreams about Callum and the way it felt when he’d bitten me, the way it felt when he touched me so tenderly where no man had touched me in some time.

Sitting in Brock’s lap earlier that morning didn’t help my confusion. When he pulled me into his lap during breakfast, like it was a becoming a habit, I knew I should have fought it, especially since Cal was right there. I had no idea if the intimacy Cal and I had shared meant anything or if it was just part of a vampire feeding, but I just couldn’t bring myself to move. Being in Brock’s arms was comforting in a way I hadn’t expected.

He didn’t make me feel small, or like he was protecting me. Instead, he made me feel stronger. I felt calm, clear, and focused when he put his head on my shoulder.

After that cop said those things, I definitely needed some calm, clear focus.

Watching Malik train outside without a shirt and seeing his muscles ripple over his back and abs was not the clarity I was hoping for. If anything, the pull I felt toward him made me that much more confused.

Another knock came at the door again, and with a reluctant sigh, I stood to answer it with a fake smile firmly in place.

“Can I help you?” I asked as I opened the door to a beautiful redhead with a slim body that no amount of YouTube Yoga videos would have ever given me and skin that seemed to radiate youth and wealth. I had no idea who this woman was, but I wanted to hate her instantly on principle. The way she eyed my ripped jeans with disdain wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, hi. My name is Amelia. Osric sent me.” She gave me a bright, confident smile as if I was supposed to know who she was and what an Osric was.

“Who sent you for what?”

“Uh,” she looked a little uncomfortable as she tucked her red hair behind a pointed ear. “Osric, he got a call saying there was a halfling here who needed—”

“Amelia?” Brock called from behind me. He was there in a second, his hand on my lower back, radiating warmth. I shouldn’t have liked him touching me like that when I wanted to kiss his best friend again. Or when I was thinking of Malik seconds ago.

What was wrong with me? Maybe the humidity was getting to me, or maybe I needed to read cleaner books on my Kindle.

No, it was the humidity.

“Amelia, I didn’t know Osric was sending you,” Brock said warmly. He reached out to embrace her, and I ignored the way my stomach knotted.

“Well, I am the strongest Fae on the continent currently, so it would make sense that he called me to assess the young one’s abilities.” She laughed, making a high-pitched noise that sounded more like wind chimes than an actual laugh. I supposed some people found that charming or even appealing. At that moment, I was not one of those people.

“Of course, Amelia. This is Liz. She owns the house and takes care of her little brother.”

“She isn’t the one we are assessing, is she?” The way she looked down her too-perfect nose at me rubbed me the wrong way. Brock shot me an odd look.

“No, it’s her brother. He’s in the back. Why don’t I take you to him?”

I moved out of the way and followed them to the kitchen, where Cal was sitting next to my chair, fishing the crossword out of the newspaper.

“You know vampires are the reason we still do print newspapers?” Cal said, not looking up.

“Because you’re all too old to learn new tech?” Amelia said, and the hostility in her words did not match her sugar-sweet tone.

“No, it’s because blue light does more damage to sensitive eyes,” he answered, glaring at the girl.

Brock looked between everyone, his brows furrowed and lips pursed as he pushed Amelia outside. I couldn’t help but notice how her red polished nails rested on Brock’s shoulders like she was claiming him as her own.

I had no idea what powers my little brother had. In fact, I didn’t even know what powers they had in general. But I kind of hoped that Leif would accidentally turn her hair into spaghetti.

“Who was that?” Cal asked.

“Fae chick, apparently Ostrich-somebody sent her to help Leif,” I said, taking my seat, grabbing my red pen, and pretending to focus back on the newspaper.

The way she eyed Malik up and down like a steak made me hope her help would be effective. And her stay short.

“Ostrich? Do you mean Osric?” Cal asked, regaining my attention.

“Yeah, maybe?” I shrugged. “Who’s Osric?”

“A member of the Fae royal family and generally a nice guy. As far as the Fae go, anyway. He’s in London, the last I heard, but I know he’s been looking for a reason to leave. I wonder if he’ll consider the threat to a halfling Fae a good enough reason. Seems he thinks sending Amelia is enough.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged and turned my attention back to watching everyone in the backyard.

Amelia put her hand on Malik, and he took a step back, brushing her off. Then, he pointed towards Leif. It was impossible to tell what exactly had just happened, but the pout on her lips was pretty satisfying.

“So…” Cal started.

“So?”

“Have you thought any more about working as a donor?”

“Not really,” I said with a sigh, wishing for the millionth time I had upgraded this house with better air conditioning. I promised myself I would do it every year, but I still hadn’t. It was so humid that I knew I must have looked like some kind of gutter rat. My hair was no doubt frizzy as could be, and I could feel the sweat drop down my back, occasionally beading and breaking down my collarbone and between my breasts.

Was there anything that made a woman feel less attractive than boob sweat?

“Didn’t like the experience?” he asked, his eyes finding the spot he’d claimed me.

“It’s not that,” the tops of my cheeks started to heat, and I blamed that damn humidity. “It’s just that it was more… personal than I expected, and it made me feel…”

“Feel what?” Cal turned his chair, so he faced me directly.

“A lot of things, and I don’t know if I’m the type of woman who could go around feeling that way with multiple men or women. Well, it’s not the number of people. It’s not knowing them, the intimate acts with strangers. I’m not exactly a one-night stand or even a first date is okay for more than a kiss kind of girl. Not that I would look down on anyone who did. I mean, sometimes I envy women who can do that. But I…” I wondered if I should stop.

“Want something more traditional?” Cal finished for me.

“No, it’s not about tradition or traditional values. I couldn’t care less about that. When I am with someone, I feel like I can give them a piece of myself. I know sex doesn’t have to be a part of feeding, but it’s still just so intimate. Maybe I’m silly, but I want the people I share something intimate with to be people I know and care about.” I sounded sappy and ridiculous.

Cal stared out the window, and I was sure he had stopped listening to my crazy ramblings when he looked at me and said, “Actually, I get it. What we shared was very intimate. Even more so than with most anyone I’ve fed on before.” He swallowed hard and looked away. “And even with others, that’s why I stopped sleeping with my donors, and I rarely visit diners, but sadly, I still need to feed. Can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask, but I might not answer.”

“When you’re with someone, do you get possessive?”

His question threw me. My first response was no, that I had never been overly jealous or possessive of my one and only ex-boyfriend. Then I looked outside and saw Amelia, who should have been focused on Leif, talking to Brock, her hand on his chest.

“I’m not sure,” I answered as honestly as I could.

Cal nodded, staring outside like I was, watching this woman hit on Brock.

“I was never jealous or possessive before. I was with Pandora for decades, but we were both free to see other people, and I never had a problem with it.”

“And now?” I asked as he stood up and moved to go back downstairs.

“Now, I want to break the fingers of anyone who touches Brock except you. For some reason, I quite enjoy the idea of watching you touch him and vice versa. I’m not attracted to the dragon the way I am with you or Brock, but the way he looks at you and you watch him… doesn’t bother me. The way the cop looked at your ass when you stood up and made me want to stake him. I don’t know what to make of that.”

Just like that, he dropped that bomb and then went downstairs before I could even process what he said.

What the hell was I supposed to do with that information?