Page 18 of The Vampire's Werewolf Bodyguard

Cody

Cody’s senses hum as he paces the driveway. The rhythmic crunch of gravel blends with the surrounding forest sounds. Each individual ray of sunlight seems to tickle his skin.

Soon, the sunlight will fade, and the moon will take its throne.

One night before the full moon. One complete cycle since Cody’s disastrous last job. He can’t fuck this up—but anxiety won’t exactly help him control his wolf. All of his lapses have been caused by strong emotion or sudden danger. If Cody can keep his shit together, he might not even shift.

Key word: if.

“We have a plan,” Cody mutters to himself. “Everything will be fine.”

The containment room—or the kennel, as Simon calls it—is ready. Tobias is due at the house in a few minutes, which is why Cody is awake this early. He’s gotten used to the nocturnal lifestyle.

He’s gotten used to living with Simon, too.

They’ve settled into a pattern of not kissing. Not talking about it. Just existing in each other’s presence, observing each other’s instinctive behaviors. Cody doesn’t mind the scent of bottled blood on Simon’s lips. When they watch TV and the doorbell rings on the show, Simon laughs at Cody’s bristling fur.

Living in limbo isn’t frustrating like Cody would have expected. It’s satisfying, basking in the potential. Like the moon, ever present as it dances in and out of shadow. They haven’t left Simon’s property since their trip to the Broken Cross, and they’re both safe here.

For once, Cody dreads seeing his closest friend. Tobias’s arrival will disrupt that peaceful limbo.

Maybe Cody needs the disruption. Part of him feels guilty—not for lusting over a principal, but for being this happy. For not worrying about what will happen when the job is over and he leaves Simon’s side.

The scheduled intruder is driving up to the gate. Tobias had texted him the model of his rental car in advance, but Cody doesn’t relax until he recognizes Tobias in the driver’s seat.

Well. As relaxed as he’s going to get, with the moon’s strengthening pull.

“Hey, man,” Cody calls out, as Tobias exits the car. He’s rusty with small talk but does his best. “Any trouble on the way out?”

Tobias stretches. He’s wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the words Ask Me About My Pomeranian. “Smooth flight, once it finally got going.” He drags a suitcase out. “Sorry to cut it so close. I should have flown out yesterday—but looks like you haven’t wolfed out, so all’s well that ends well.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Cody warns.

Tobias’s answering laugh is warm, but tired. Cody hasn’t seen him this exhausted since college.

“How’s Aditi?” Cody asks, feeling guilty. “Sorry for dragging you away for this.”

“She’s doing great.” Adoration softens the dark circles beneath Tobias’s eyes. “Her sister’s staying over while I’m gone. Last I heard, they’re planning on eating pancakes and bacon for every meal.”

Cody’s unsurprised. “You married a smart one.”

“Yes, I did,” Tobias says, dreamily. Then he waves his hand, as if breaking his own besotted enthrallment. “How are you? You look…” Tobias peers closer, suspicious. “Why the fuck do you look so happy?”

Cody hadn’t realized he looked particularly happy. He’s the most stressed he’s been in weeks, readying to fight himself against an early shift. Then there’s the stress of the job, looking after Simon, monitoring the security system, staying constantly alert.

Except the job isn’t stressful when he’s doing it right. This is what he thrives on, every neglected pack instinct soothed. Especially when he feels a connection to the person he’s protecting. Then it’s a purpose, not a job.

“Maybe the fresh air suits me,” Cody says instead. “Come on in.”

Tobias wags a finger, following Cody through the garage. “You’re supposed to say you’re happy to see me. But damn, this is a nice piece of land. Are all vampires this rich?”

“They play the long game on real estate.” Same as werewolf packs, when there’s enough leadership stability over the generations. Werewolves are less likely to sell, though. Territorial.

Getting inside is a slow process. Tobias has to inspect every piece of security equipment he passes. Both to check the installment team did their jobs properly, and to make sure Cody hasn’t fucked it up. Tobias does this every time, but he’s taking extra long today. Cody takes a while to realize why, then catches Tobias’s furtive glances at the boarded-up windows.

Right. Cody had to get Tobias cleared with the treaty council, so Cody could work for Atwood Security without violating secrecy laws. So, Tobias is allowed to know about werewolves, vampires, witches, and their ilk. But he’s spent most of that time only consorting with werewolves. One specific werewolf, that is. Tobias has never been inside a vampire’s lair before, and he’s politely trying not to gawk.

Cody is hyperaware of the sunset as they drop Tobias’s things in a guest room, then proceed to the parlor. He’s become as attuned to the sun’s movements as he is to the moon. It’s twenty minutes past sunset, enough time for someone to crawl from their coffin, when Cody catches Tobias peering at the windows again.

“If you think this is weird, you should see the fridge,” Cody says, grinning.

“This isn’t weird, this is disappointing!” Tobias complains, with an answering grin. He points at the ceiling. “I wanted bats! Coffins! Horrible velvet wallpaper!”

“Horrible velvet wallpaper is a human invention,” Simon says from the doorway .

Tobias jumps but recovers. “We’re creative like that.” His arm moves like he’s about to offer a handshake, then changes his mind.

Some deep, primal part of Cody is happy about that. Nobody else’s scent should linger on Simon’s skin.

Simon seems amused by Tobias’s gawking, but careful inspection reveals his tension. That eternal stillness. Simon has a werewolf-like defensiveness over his territory. Cody hadn’t noticed that defensiveness slowly lessening until now, when it returns in full force.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” Simon says politely. A far cry from his first meeting with Cody. He’s in the same blue sweater he wore the night he tried sneaking out. The one that brings out his eyes.

“Likewise,” Tobias says. “You’re very…”

Simon leans in the doorway. “Nothing like you expected? Or exactly like?”

Tobias shrugs. “The only other vampire I’ve met in person is Dima. No offense, but he’s creepy as hell.”

Simon usually gets distant and sad at that name, but now, he just smiles. “He would be offended if you didn’t find him creepy. The moon is getting stronger. Shall we?”

Anxiety flares, awakened from dormancy. Cody is just as aware of sunset as moonrise, but his awareness of Simon eclipses both. He could almost forget the full moon is close, mistaking the buzz in his veins for attraction.

“If you like your upholstery unscratched,” Cody says, pasting cheerfulness over his anxiety.

Simon smiles again instead of biting back. Which means he’s uncomfortable or upset. Maybe about having Tobias in his space. Maybe about Cody’s werewolf nature, impossible to hide as the moon waxes. Cody can’t take the time to figure out what’s wrong, and he hates that.

They have to cross the library with the garden mural to reach the chosen containment site. It’s usually a storage room. Once Simon heard Cody might scratch up the walls, that eliminated most rooms from consideration.

Cody installed the heavy latch and moved the boxes of books out last week. The current furnishings are sparse—a mattress and a wooden chest with spare clothes. Warm overhead lighting can’t soften this into a comfortable den.

“This is rather medieval,” Simon remarks.

“And you would know?” Cody asks.

“That’s a bit before my time.” Simon glances at Tobias, then Cody. “I’ll be downstairs,” he says, and leaves them at the doorway.

Cody tries not to watch him leave. Better for Simon not to be here, because Cody hates this part. Feeling like an animal being locked up in his cage. The Atwood Security containment room has a nice, self-locking door. Cody doesn’t usually have to suffer this indignity in front of other people. But this storage room has to be locked from the outside, with a sturdy metal latch.

The worst part is this is Cody’s own damn fault. For not controlling himself. For not finding a new pack or a mate. He can’t read Tobias’s expression. Pity? Or disgust? Resting tired face?

Tobias says nonchalantly, “If I found out you were fucking a principal, I would have to fire you.”

Cody chokes. He’d forgotten how observant Tobias was. “I’m not. Definitely not.”

Not yet anyway .

“That’s what I like to hear.” Tobias gives him a thumbs up. “Now, get in, loser, we’re going… wolfing?”

“You’re the worst boss,” Cody says, and flees into the room. He yanks the door closed on Tobias’s laughter—and his own helpless grin.

Fuck. He really lucked into the best college roommate. Sometimes it’s easy to remember why he thought friendship and a job would be enough to replace the pack bond.

Unfortunately, his younger self had been wrong. Better put away his cell phone, just in case. Cody kneels at the wooden chest and flips open the fiddly latch. Opposable thumbs required. He lifts the lid and pauses.

All he’d packed were spare clothes, but now there’s also a tablet in a sturdy case and half a dozen books. The assortment is eclectic—mystery, fantasy, self-help, play scripts.

A sticky note on the tablet case reads: Don’t worry about ruining these. They’re very cheap, and I’m very wealthy.

Touching the note, Cody wants to feel warm. Grateful. But the kind gesture perversely makes him lonelier. A door between him and his…

Cody shoves to his feet and keeps moving. Pacing. The gray walls swallow his footsteps.

Simon isn’t pack. He’s a vampire. Cody’s barely known him a month, and that month is barely a blink in Simon’s long life. Cody doesn’t have a pack, and he’s never belonged anywhere since he left for a boy who didn’t love him back.

Atwood Security is a career, not a family. Simon Caley is an assignment. As soon as the threat is cleared, Cody will leave.

Or worse, he’ll stay.

Until Simon tires of him. Until ancient enmities or petty differences shatter their bond. Until mismatched lifespans wrench them apart. Whether he leaves sooner or later, Cody will be alone. Just like he is right now.

Even underground, in a room without windows, the lonely emptiness inside Cody fills with moonlight.

He staggers, a growl ripping from a changing throat. When his hands hit the ground, they aren’t hands anymore. The shift is a full-body blink, and Cody shudders into himself. Claws settle comfortably. His tail sways as he shakes off torn fabric.

He’s a wolf. Like he should be.

But he shouldn’t be caged, nor wreathed in the scent of cold blood. Alone. Human explanations feel distant, unimportant. Frustration drives Cody forward, shoulder slamming into the horrible door.

Which breaks open. It isn’t latched.