Meat

Chapter Eleven

"I didn't tell her, Matt. She already knew."

Priya took a seat on the edge of the bed and brushed her free hand along her thigh, smoothing out the wrinkles in her jeans. On the other end of the line, Matthew was pacing. She could hear each step creaking through the wooden floor of her hallway. He grumbled and huffed but didn't reply.

"Look, I'll handle it, alright?" she said. "Jem's promised not to tell Kaleb."

"You think that's what I care about?"

"Well, what is it, then?"

"We agreed that we weren't going to say anything until we were ready."

Priya flopped back on the bed, staring at the beige ceiling and the fan slowly whirring above her head.

"And I didn't."

Matthew was once again silent at the other end of the phone. The fan went around and around, the orange glow of the light burning her eyes. It was too early for this. She assumed that Matthew felt the same way. After all, he was used to working during the day doing labour around the farm. It was only a few days a month where he switched to being a night owl.

"I should go," he said.

"Come on, don't be like that."

"I'm not anything, Pri, I just need to sleep."

Priya nodded slowly and rolled onto her side.

"Talk later?"

"Sure."

Sitting up, Priya pushed her hair back from her face and rested her elbow on her knee.

"Sleep well," she said quietly.

"You too. Bye."

The phone cuts off before she can properly say goodbye. She tossed the phone onto the mattress and got to her feet, brushing off her clothes again. It was tempting to call him back and call him an asshole. It wasn't her fault Jemima had figured it out. Instead, she left the room, leaving her phone and the temptation on the bed.

Most of the pack and slunk into rooms in the early morning light, eager to fall into beds and sleep. She was keen to get back to bed herself, but Kaleb would want to know what Matthew had told her.

Golden sunlight flooded through the large windows on either side of the front door. The front door to the large farmhouse was rarely used but it looked just the way a farmhouse should in her opinion. Everyone had used the kitchen door to come into the house for as long as she could remember and the front door was often blocked by boxes and bags of feed. The house was perfectly lived in and she loved it, though would be pleased when she was back in her own apartment.

Walking into the kitchen, Priya's eyes narrowed at the sight. Carson sat at the table, his feet up on the chair next to him and his elbow resting on the table. He stared at the cellar door as if it would pop open at any minute.

"Hey," she said. "Where's Kal?"

"Entertaining our guest."

Carson didn't look at her. His nostrils flared and he lifted his head from his hand just enough to point at the cellar. Following his gaze, she frowned and stepped towards the door, brushing her fingers along the top of the deadbolt.

"Why is it locked?"

He gave a wide grin and leaned further back in his chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, his shirt strained at the shoulders and biceps. Priya rolled her eyes.

"Jemima did it for our protection," he said, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. "The vampire could still be dangerous to us."

Grasping the deadbolt, she stared at the metal but didn't pull it back. It didn't make sense that Jemima would lock Kaleb inside with the vampire if he was dangerous but she wasn't about to disobey Jemima's decision, even if it was Kaleb behind that door. Kaleb was their alpha but the house belonged to Jemima... and Carson, she supposed.

"So it was a vampire then?"

Carson nodded and turned to face her.

"His name's Spencer, or at least so Jem tells me."

Priya yanked her hand away from the deadbolt and stepped back. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she rounded the table and sunk into one of the seats.

"You know him," Carson said.

He reached out and grabbed the side of her chair, dragging her towards him with a squeal of wood against the flagon stone floor. Grasping the table, Priya glared back at him.

"What?" he asked. "Your job given you a soft spot for the drainers? I always said you shouldn't be so close all the time."

Shoving his hand from her chair, Priya turned away from him, glaring at the cellar door.

"I do my job fine, Carson."

"But you do know this vamp."

Priya chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded. Adjusting his seat, Carson pulled himself closer to the table and rested his arms on the wood. He leaned forwards and caught her gaze, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"What, that's what," he said. "Tell me."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"About the drainer."

"Spencer?"

"No, Charles the mighty dead one. Yes Spencer."

There was something especially wolfish about the way he looked at her. His grin was broad and open, his teeth just visible beneath his lips. His hair was still messy from transforming and his cheeks pink with his feed. She wasn't sure whether the dark pigment of his lips was natural or if they were still stained with blood.

"His name's Spencer Allaway," she said. "He worked at the club before he was turned. Uhh, six years ago?"

"Right after you started, yeah?"

"I think I'd worked there about six months when he disappeared. Everyone assumed..."

She stopped, glancing at the door again. Vampires had excellent senses, including hearing, and she wondered just how much they could hear of what she was saying. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she sat back in her chair and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"Everyone assumed what?" Carson asked. "Come on, Priya, tell me everything. It'll help us."

"Help us do what?"

Carson took her hand and cradled it in both of his own. His hands were large and warm, the skin hard but silky. Priya looked away before the blood rushed to her cheeks.

"This drainer could be dangerous to us. What if he was sent here to spy? I just want to make sure we're prepared, that's all. Some of the others were saying he was there when they confronted Caine."

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, Priya sighed and pulled her hand back from his. She wrung her fingers and turned away from the cellar door.

"Before Spencer was turned, he was an addict," she said quietly. "Coke, alcohol, pills. There were rumours and when he disappeared... well, everyone just assumed he'd OD'd."

Carson's mouth had dropped open, his eyes wide. He leaned closer to her and grasped her knee.

"When he came back, he said it had been rehab, but he was different. Then I saw him with Caine and... well, that was that."

Pulling his feet from the chair, Carson jumped up and grasped her by the shoulders. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, the way Kaleb would do, and cupped her face.

"Thanks," he said.

He circled the table and went out into the hallway, his footsteps quick and heavy. Priya pursed her lips as she watched him round the corner and out of sight. She had not expected him to be so excited by the news their vampire guest had once been a drug addict, and now she saw it, she wasn't sure she should have told him in the first place.