Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Nineteen

From the doorway, Evie stood watching him. He looked perfectly normal. Not like he'd looked last night. He didn't sound like he had done then either.

The heat of the full moon had spared him when the sun came up. Now, he was back to his normal size doing normal things.

In all honesty, Evie had always thought a werewolf on the full moon would look a whole lot scarier than that.

He'd told her this morning that they were going to see someone today. Apparently, they'd be meeting a demon in a club who could help them with the portal. He didn't specify what kind of demon and he didn't give her a name. Evie was crossing her fingers for someone she knew.

Demons were a funny species, simply because there were so many kinds of them. Some were friendly, others were not so friendly. But they made for a good time. From her Common world expeditions some forty years ago, Evie could say with full certainty that demons definitely made for a good time.

Currently, the werewolf was inspecting the engine of her car. He'd told her that he didn't trust the make. What he didn't trust was the price. Thirty years ago, Evie had been the same. Like him, she'd always lived in a castle. But she'd had thirty years to get over her snobbery.

In that thirty years she'd spent away from Veneficus, Evie had built herself from the ground up. Everything she had was earnt.

She wasn't the same spoilt witch she'd been when she left.

As he worked, she stood near the door, basking in the light and fresh air. She'd die soon. It was the little things like this that she wanted to remember.

She took the time to examine the werewolf too. She didn't know what to make of him. This was her fourth day of knowing him now. The man she'd seen on the second and third day had been different to the one she'd dealt with on the first. He seemed... changed. Maybe not changed, but he was making an effort to be nice to her. And he was touchier. She'd picked up on that in the early hours of the morning. She must've fallen asleep somewhere near the knocked out wolf. When she woke up after sunrise, the chained up werewolf King had dragged her body backwards. She woke up cradled in his arms like something small and precious.

She couldn't work his change out, much to her dismay. This niceness could mean anything. The most likely guess was that he wanted something from her and had realised there was only so much he could force her to do before she put her foot down.

Maybe he'd remembered that she was going to die soon and was being nice out of sympathy.

"I can feel you staring at me," he called, bent over the bonnet. He didn't turn to look at her. "Something you'd like to say?"

"Nope. Nothing."

Her bags had already been loaded into the back again. With nothing else to do, she stood against the wall and waited.

When he turned, he frowned at her choice of clothing. After he'd told her they'd be going to a club, she'd modelled her attire around it, opting for a short skirt.

Each time he spotted her legs, he looked like a man in pain.

"So," he called. "Did everything go as planned last night?"

"Mostly. You were exactly like you said you'd be. All 'let me go' and what have you. But you didn't tell me your full moon self is so delusional."

He seemed to still. "Delusional?"

"Oh yeah. You were going on about how I was yours and shit. You were right. It was like you'd confused me for your mate. Do I look like her?"

He swallowed thickly. "A little."