Page 24

T WENTY -F OUR C AMILLE

After Noah canceled our private session yesterday to attend a meeting with the other mentors in the organization, we head to Ballard early today to get in a few exercises before class starts.

I hang up my coat and bag, then hop on the treadmill to warm up. When I’m done my usual ten minutes at no incline, I meet Noah on the mats in the middle of the room so we can run through the defensive drills I have memorized at this point.

“What did Harper say when you told her about the test?” he asks, blocking my punch with his padded glove.

I pull my arm back and lower my gaze, resenting the warmth of embarrassment in my face. “I haven’t told her yet.”

“Really?” He doesn’t bother hiding the shock in his tone. “Why not?”

My eyes snap back up to meet his gaze. “I didn’t tell her because I’m sick of everything being about me. Harper deserves a best friend who’s there for her as much as she is for them. So when I visited Seattle, I kept it to myself.”

He nods, rubbing his jaw. “That was almost two weeks ago.”

I sigh heavily. “I’m aware, thank you.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Why do you care so damn much?” I snap.

I’ve managed to keep my attitude surrounding the test out of my training sessions with Noah for the past couple weeks—mostly—but the more he pushes, the harder it is not to yell in his face.

His brows inch up his forehead. “Easy, Cam. I’m just—”

“You’re just what?” I interrupt with a jagged tone. “I get you’re pissed that me failing my first hunter test looks bad on you being my mentor, but maybe if you hadn’t got the organization to use a simulation of Xander, I would have passed.”

He steps closer, looking down at me. “I didn’t tell them anything. Your history with that prick isn’t a secret.” His eyes flick between mine. “You thought…Why would I try to sabotage your first test after working my ass off to prepare you for it? In what world does that make sense?”

My stomach fills with knots, and I struggle to hold his gaze as my eyes burn. “I’m sorry,” I force out, pressing my lips together.

“I am, too. Obviously, you think very little of me if you believe that’s something I would do.”

I shake my head, blinking back the tears. “I said I was sorry, Noah. I shouldn’t have thought that, but the whole thing really screwed with me, okay? So, I am really sorry. Sincerely. You’ve been so helpful and supportive, and I probably don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate that.”

His expression softens, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You definitely don’t.” He reaches for me, squeezing my shoulders. “Despite the setback, you are progressing. We’ve only been working together for a month, and after such a long break, you’re readjusting better than I thought you would.”

I blink at him. “Thanks?”

He chuckles. “I know it hasn’t been easy dealing with some trainees not being happy to have you around, especially when you aren’t thrilled to be back in training, but all of this will get easier.”

“Yeah?” I mutter. “When?”

He releases my shoulder, tweaking my chin before dropping his arms back to his sides. “I bet it’ll be sooner than you think.”

I shrug, blurting the first thing that comes to mind. “Maybe if you can convince the organization to let me redo the test that would help.”

Noah arches a brow. “Is that what you want?”

I find myself nodding, the idea of redeeming myself too enticing to pass up. “If that’s a possibility, I want to take it.”

“Okay,” he says, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “I think I can make that happen.” He leaves me to hit the punching bag while he slips out of the room to make a call, and when he returns ten minutes later with a smile curving his lips, a nervous fluttering erupts in my stomach.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, coming to stand next to the punching bag. “If you don’t pass a second time—”

“You think I’m going to fail again?” I cross my arms, which turns out to be quite an awkward movement while wearing boxing gloves.

He offers me a pointed look. “No, but I understand how nerve wracking tests can be for some people. I just want to make sure you’re ready.”

I tug the gloves off and toss them into the bin. “I’m ready.”

Something akin to pride flashes in his gaze. “Good. Because you’ll be fighting your pal Cody. I just arranged this class to be observed by my superiors, so the fight will count as your evaluation.”

My heart beats faster, and I swallow three times as my throat goes dry. “Is this a test or a reward?” I say, hoping to cover up the anxiety wading to the surface.

Noah laughs. “Hang onto that confidence, and you’ll do just fine.”

Class starts half an hour later, and I quickly greet the few trainees I consider friends at this point before Noah explains the one-on-one practice tests we’re doing today.

Of course, for me it isn’t practice, but he and I are the only ones who know that. Well, us and the representatives from the organization who are observing from the security feed, according to what Noah told me as the class filed in.

We’re split off into pairs, and when Noah calls out my name followed by Cody’s, my muscles tense. The vicious look on Cody’s face makes my pulse tick faster. He’s been at this longer than me and I’m sure would love nothing more than to knock me on my ass, but I’m not going to let that happen. I’m going to use every bit of training Noah has taught me, because failure is not an option.

The training room falls silent when Noah calls me and Cody onto the mats. Sierra shoots me a supportive smile that I struggle to return as I walk forward.

Cody meets me in the middle of the mat, smirking. “Don’t hold back, demon fucker,” he says under his breath. “I’d hate to utterly embarrass you here.”

I grit my teeth against a snarky response. He isn’t worth it , I tell myself, steadying my stance as I hold his cold gaze.

Noah commences the fight with a loud whistle, and my focus narrows on Cody. He’s wicked fast, I’ll give the asshole that. He launches himself at me without a second of hesitation, and I jump back instinctively, sucking in a breath as he circles me.

His next attack is a swift grab for me that I barely manage to sidestep, and I nearly trip over my own feet in an attempt to put distance between us and regroup so I can flip to the offensive maneuvers I’ve been practicing with Noah.

Cody comes at me again, the animalistic grin on his mouth sending a cold shiver through me as I move out of his grasp. His hands swipe at empty air as I dart around him, but he recovers in an instant, whirling to face me.

“Not bad,” he grumbles, nostrils flaring. “But you’ll have to do a lot better than that.”

I offer a mockingly sweet smile. “Touché.”

His fist comes flying toward my face, and I duck just in time to avoid it connecting with my jaw. I drop low and kick out, knocking his legs out from under him. When he hits the mats with a loud thud , I resist the urge to make a comment about him skipping leg day at the gym.

Cody scrambles upright before I can attack him on the ground, growling obscenities at me as he charges forward. I shift backward, but not fast enough to avoid a hit to my shoulder. Pain flares all the way to my fingertips, and I suck in a breath at the sharpness. I block his next attempt, twisting away before doubling back and driving my knee into his ribs then my elbow into his throat. He coughs violently, his eyes popping wide, but I don’t back down. I jump onto his back as sweat rolls down my temple, throwing my weight into knocking him back to the ground, the impact reverberating through the mats.

This time, I don’t give him a moment to get up. I grab his dominant arm and pin it above his head at an angle that threatens dislocation should he move. Still he struggles, but I have the full weight of my body against him. My breath comes in short, shallow pants, my heart beating hard against my rib cage as I hold Cody where I want him.

I pull in a deep breath, then use every ounce of strength I’ve built to flip him onto his back. His eyes widen, his chest heaving as I throw myself on top of him, pressing my knee just above his groin and my dominant arm against his throat, effectively immobilizing him. He grits his teeth, scowling as he struggles beneath me, knowing he can’t move enough to get free.

I hold his gaze, relishing in the triumph of taking him down and witnessing the look of defeat in his eyes.

The blare of Noah’s whistle fills me with a dizzying mix of relief and pride as I climb off Cody to leave him on the mats, breathing hard and no doubt cursing my existence.

Sierra, Brynne, and Wyatt rush over and slap me on the back, offering their congratulations. They have no idea what this victory means for me, but their excitement only adds to the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest.

My gaze finds Noah’s as the next two trainees take the mats. He offers a nod and a grin that tells me I passed the test, and that paired with the pride in his eyes has me floating on a cloud of warmth and accomplishment for the rest of class.

I’ve never been happier to endure New York City traffic than I am the next morning picking Harper up from JFK. I borrow Noah’s car and meet her at arrivals, and there are squeals of excitement as we squeeze each other so hard I can’t breathe, but I don’t care. I saw her only two weeks ago in Seattle, but with everything going on in both our lives, moments like these feel as if they hold more weight. More importance.

Once we’re in the car heading toward my apartment, Harper turns to me. “So what’s the plan?”

“Uhhh…” I drag out the word. “That’s a pretty loaded question these days.” Since I passed my reevaluation yesterday, I decide I don’t need to tell Harper I failed the first test. My position in the program is secure for now, so there’s no sense in making her worry for nothing.

She playfully punches me in the shoulder. “I meant for my trip. What are we doing for Thanksgiving?”

“My dad’s cooking, which you’ll be happy about, and I don’t know besides that. Noah is probably going to come over. We’ll eat and drink too much, maybe watch the parade. I haven’t really thought too much about it. I’m just glad you’re here.”

She grins at me from the passenger seat.

Groaning under my breath, I hesitate before saying, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Are we going to talk about how you feel about Noah coming to dinner? I’ve refrained from saying anything about you driving his car. This is his, right?”

I exhale a short laugh, nodding. “He would’ve had dinner with my dad whether I was here or not.”

Noah’s family lives out of state, so he typically spends holidays either by himself or with my dad. He’s known my family for most of his life. He’s practically part of it by now.

After we drop Harper’s things at my apartment, we meet up with Noah in the lobby and catch a cab to my dad’s place so we don’t have to worry about driving.

Dad’s in the kitchen when we arrive, an apron tied around his waist and his reading glasses on as he studies the tablet in his hand, glancing between it and what appears to be some type of casserole.

“Hey, Dad.” I walk over and give him a half hug, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Hey, kiddo.” He smiles in greeting at Harper and Noah. “Would you believe me if I told you I have been in the kitchen since seven o’clock this morning?”

I laugh fondly. “Yeah, I would actually.”

“Everything smells amazing, if that helps,” Harper chimes in, and my dad shoots her a wink. My eyebrows lift when her cheeks go pink, and she dips her chin before glancing away.

“Is there anything we can help with?” I ask, refusing to explore the weirdness of that moment. I think my head would explode.

Dad shakes his head, waving us away. “You guys relax in the other room, watch the parade, help yourselves to a drink. Everything will be ready in an hour or so.”

Harper, Noah, and I saunter into the living room, where Dad’s flatscreen is already turned on to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Harper flops onto the couch with a content sigh, grabbing a blanket off the back and wrapping it around herself, while Noah and I converge at the bar cart in the corner of the room. I glance over at the screen every so often to see the floats—several oversized animals followed by Santa’s sleigh, which has always been my favorite.

“Whiskey sour?” Noah asks, bumping my shoulder with his. The hint of his cologne tickles my nose with the subtle scent of rain and mint, and I can’t help the tentative smile that curls my lips as I nod. It’s a small thing, but Noah remembering my drink of choice fills my stomach with a faint fluttering sensation.

“Once you two are done flirting like I’m not here, I’d love a margarita.”

Before I can speak, Noah laughs, glancing at Harper over his shoulder with a teasing, “Do you want me to flirt with you, Harper?”

“Please, oh please,” she deadpans, her gaze sliding to me as Noah turns back to make my and Harper’s drinks.

I shoot her a look that she ignores, reaching for the TV remote to turn up the volume. “Did you connect with your family?” I ask, watching him make Harper’s drink after mine.

Noah’s family doesn’t know about demons or that he hunts them and trains others to as well. They only know he works for the government, and he wants to keep it that way.

“Yeah,” he says casually, “I called my mom and sister this morning. They were getting ready to host my aunt and uncle along with their kids for dinner, and my dad was outside putting lights up.”

I choke on a laugh. “Christmas lights?” The holidays were never a huge thing in my house, decorations even less so. I appreciate why Noah’s mom likes having them up far ahead of the actual holiday. More time to enjoy them.

“Christmas lights,” he echoes with a nod and rolls his eyes, though his tone doesn’t allude to annoyance when he says, “Mom insisted. My dad’s lucky she didn’t want the tree up already too.” He finishes making my and Harper’s drinks before we join her on the couch, and I end up sandwiched between them as we drink and watch the parade.

Not long after, Dad calls us to the table in the dining space attached to the kitchen, and I slip out of the room when my phone rings with a call from my mom.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she says in a warm voice. “How’s your visit with Harper going? I know she was looking forward to it.”

“We’re having a great time,” I tell her, walking the length of the hall.

“I have to say, I miss having you in the same city. Even though we didn’t spend much time together while you were here, knowing you were close made me feel better.”

“I’m safe here,” I insist. “You and Dad made sure of that when you put me up in the same building as Noah.” As much as I hated it at the time, it’s grown on me. Having him close is convenient for training, and while I’d never admit it aloud, it does make me feel safer knowing he’s there.

“Of course, I know that,” she says.

“Noah’s going to eat all the food if you don’t hurry up,” Harper hollers from the other room.

Mom laughs. “Go enjoy your dinner.”

“Are you doing anything special tonight?” I ask, slowly heading back toward the dining room.

“Pizza and Pinot curled up on the couch with a movie and early to bed. I have back-to-back meetings in the morning.”

I frown at the thought of her spending Thanksgiving by herself. Mom’s always been more introverted, but still. “Sounds nice.” I try to make it sound lighthearted, but she must hear something else.

“Don’t worry about me. This is my ideal evening. Holidays lose some of their magic as you get older. I’ve learned to make them days where I do things that make me happy, which is exactly what I’m doing tonight.”

That makes me feel slightly better. “I’m glad to hear that.” This conversation is one of the easiest I’ve had with my mom in…well, too long. I don’t want it to end, but my stomach is also grumbling like crazy. I lean against the doorway to the dining room with my back to the table.

“And I’m glad to hear you passed your test. You’re lucky you have a mentor willing to stick his neck out for you. Most trainees don’t get a redo, and Noah fought for you to get one.”

I cup the back of my neck with my free hand as my heart rate climbs. Noah fought for me . “Yeah, thanks. I know, he’s—”

“Cami, come on,” Harper yells.

“I better go.” I press my lips together, then add, “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoes before we say goodbye and end the call.

Exhaling a slow breath, I swallow and blink away any trace of tears before walking into the dining room and taking my seat across from Noah.

Dad raises his wineglass. “A toast to an enjoyable holiday season. And a special congratulations to Camille for passing her first hunter test.”

Harper squeals, while Noah and Dad offer warm smiles.

“Thank you,” I murmur with a blush, and we all take a drink before diving into the meal.

As I predicted, we all eat too much. I sit back in my chair, groaning with discomfort as I rest my hand on my stomach. Everything tasted so good, we all went a little overboard.

“I don’t suppose anyone wants dessert?” Dad asks, finishing his glass of wine.

Harper’s hand shoots up, and when I laugh, she says, “What? Everybody knows you have a separate stomach for dessert.”

After a slice of apple pie and a couple more cocktails as we watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving , the three of us say goodbye to my dad and get a cab back to my apartment.

When the elevator hits my floor, I slug Noah on the arm, grinning when he grunts in surprise. “Why don’t you come hang for a bit? We can keep drinking.” I’m quite enjoying the pleasant buzz I have going on.

He chuckles. “Why not?”

“Woo hoo,” Harper belts out as she dances down the hallway toward my apartment.

We end up sitting on the floor in the living room while some cheesy Christmas rom-com plays in the background, and we take turns drinking from a bottle of tequila. Safe to say, it’s more fun to drink with friends than alone.

Harper gets up, mumbling, “Gotta pee,” as she walks out of the room.

Noah exhales a sigh, then goes to stifle a yawn.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we keeping you up, grandpa?”

“Kind of, actually. Yeah. I think I’m going to head back to my place.”

“Fine.” I pout. “Party pooper.”

“I don’t consider sitting on the floor taking shots of tequila on Thanksgiving as much of a party.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, setting the bottle on the coffee table with a heavy thud .

“See you later, Harper,” Noah calls out as we stand, and I walk him to the door. Instead of leaving him there, though, I follow him to the elevator.

He arches a brow at me as we wait for it to reach my floor. “I can get the rest of the way home on my own,” he comments in an amused tone.

“Hmm, are you sure about that?”

His lips twitch. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Fine, fine. I was just trying to be nice. I know you and I don’t really do that, but I thought with it being the holidays and everything…” My eyebrows tug together, and I clamp my mouth shut, because what am I even saying?

The haze of alcohol is starting to wear off, and I don’t enjoy that it’s brought the pressure back to my chest. Instead of letting him go when the elevator door slides open, I get on and press the button.

He just shakes his head and laughs under his breath as we ride in silence for the short trip from my floor to his.

When we get to his apartment, Noah pulls out his keys and unlocks the door, peering over at me curiously. “Well done. You ensured I made it home safe and sound.”

“Yeppers.” I nod for extra measure.

He regards me strangely, and it makes my stomach dip. Then he asks, “What is going on with you?”

I watch his lips move as he speaks, and my pulse ticks faster as I’m overcome with the memory of us kissing. Of the way his lips felt on mine, soft yet firm, and how being with him has somehow made me feel safe amidst all of the chaos.

“I…don’t know,” I admit with a sigh.

When Noah’s eyes dart between mine, I can’t seem to stop myself from leaning up on my tiptoes and planting my mouth on his.

He stiffens for a moment before his arms come around my waist, and he kisses me back. As soon as he does, though, it’s as if a bucket of cold water is poured into my veins.

What am I doing?

I was with Xander a couple weeks ago, and now I’m kissing Noah again? My head spins with confusion, and I pull away, pressing a hand to my mouth.

Noah just stares at me, his eyes flicking between mine. He shakes his head. “You told me I couldn’t kiss you again.”

He’s right. Fuck, I hate this whole thing. I fumble with something to say, some explanation that will make sense. “I…I know. I just—I got caught up in the moment, and you know, I drank—”

“Don’t do that,” he cuts in more firmly, snaring my gaze. Any lingering amusement is quickly replaced by something colder as he says, “Why did you kiss me?”

Why did I kiss him?

I swallow hard, then blurt, “Because it makes me feel better.”

Noah laughs humorlessly. “Well, okay then. I’m glad I can make you feel better.”

I frown, my heart still thumping hard in my chest. “You’re mad.”

“Hey, if you want to use me to forget about him, by all means, go ahead. But the least you could do is let me know.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask in a small voice, feeling painfully sober and wishing now that I’d said goodbye to him at my door and let him leave.

“Do you want to kiss me , or do you just want to forget about the person you actually want to kiss but can’t?”

Heat floods my cheeks, and I bite my tongue. Obviously I’m not going to tell him I did kiss Xander, or anything else we did. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” My voice trails off, and I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to upset you. This isn’t—Whatever you and I have been doing, whatever is between us, it has nothing to do with him.” I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, as if that’ll settle the anxiety crackling beneath my skin like static. “Look, I don’t know what we’re doing—”

His mouth is on mine in an instant, swallowing the rest of my sentence. I make a sound of surprise against his lips as my eyes shut of their own volition, and he grabs my hips, nudging his door open with his boot and guiding me inside. He kicks the door shut without breaking the kiss, and we keep moving through his apartment. My heart pounds in my chest as heat flushes through my whole body, and I fist the front of his shirt, kissing him hard. My senses are completely consumed by him. His closeness. His minty, fresh rain scent, even. It brings me comfort and sends my heart racing in tandem.

One of his hands slides up my side, cupping the side of my face, and he tips my head back slightly, deepening the kiss. His thumb skates across my cheek, gentle and grounding, and a tsunami of emotions slams into me, making my eyes burn.

Noah pauses, breaking the kiss. “Camille—”

“I’m fine.” I pull in a shaky breath. When I try to kiss him again, he turns his face away, and my stomach drops. “Sorry.” Looking away, I try to take a step back, but he holds me in place as I sniffle. My voice cracks when I say, “You don’t deserve this hot and cold from me.” I blink quickly to force the tears back, but my quivering bottom lip gives me away. “Sorry,” I repeat.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me.” He uses a finger to lift my chin until our eyes meet. “You want to stop, we stop. No questions asked.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, my pulse thrumming. “I—I can’t do this.”

Part of my heart will probably always be drawn to the life Noah could offer me, but I can’t let go of my feelings for Xander.

A muscle feathers along Noah’s jaw and his shoulders drop with a sigh. “Then we won’t.”

Silence stretches between us for a long moment. “I should go,” I say quietly, afraid my voice is going to break.

“Yeah,” he agrees. His tone is distant and he won’t meet my gaze.

Without another word, I walk out of his apartment and hurry to the elevator. Once I’m back at my place, I close the door and fall back against it.

Harper rushes over from the living room. “Oh, babe .”

She knows. Of course she knows.

I catch my bottom lip between my teeth and let my head thump against the door as I groan.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” I tell her, my chest rising and falling faster as my skin prickles with the dreadfully familiar sensation of an oncoming panic attack. “I’m so fucking scared I’m making one monumental mistake after another.”

Resting her hands on my shoulders, she meets my gaze and says, “Inhale and exhale slowly. You’re doing your best, and no one is faulting or judging you here.”

We take a few measured breaths together, and my racing pulse slows to a somewhat normal pace. “I could see myself with Noah. He drives me nuts but I’m also constantly impressed by him. There’s a trust for him that comes from our history, which is inherently comforting, but it’s…not enough.”

Harper presses her lips together, nodding. “Right. Because you’re in love with the devil.”

I stare at her.

You’re in love with the devil.

Harper is right. I do love Xander. Soulmate bond or no, at some point I moved past catching feelings for Xander to falling irrevocably in love with him.

Allowing myself to admit it only complicates things further. I love Noah, too. I had feelings for him before I met Xander, which makes me feel worse.

I’m worried I’m making a huge mistake with Noah.

I’m scared Xander is going to break my heart.

Worst of all, I’m terrified that whatever we feel won’t be enough to save us from destroying each other.