Endless

Vantage | Ryan

Nick led us to his car and opened the back door for Ali. She smiled up at him and slid into the seat with an easy grace no person could fake. Nick watched her, then prepared to close the door, but I moved fast and got in after her. He shut the door with a passive-aggressive little flourish and got in behind the wheel.

"Where to?" he asked while starting the car. I gave him my address and he whistled. "Fancy digs. But then, you probably would have run home for anything less than a five star hotel suite."

That was bullshit and he knew it. All this was to make me look like an idiot in front of Aleria. I leaned back in my seat and casually slipped my arm behind Ali's head. Just to get to him. To my surprise, Ali shifted a bit nearer as we drove. I smiled, oddly elated by the tiny movement.

Her face was turned outside to the many skyscrapers around us, but I watched her flashing reflection in the window. A mixture of confusion, bewilderment, and a generous dollop of fear appeared in her eyes. I took a chance and drew her to even closer to me, keeping my hand on her arm.

She accepted it. No. She smiled up at me and welcomed it. My true nature didn't like this one bit, but I didn't care. I smiled back and gave her arm a little rub. She slowly relaxed, resting against me while she gazed out over the passing buildings. This time, she seemed much calmer. She trusted me. Actually trusted me. Amazing.

Nick cleared his throat, snapping me out of my wonderment. "So...you'll be staying with Ryan?" He caught my eye in the rearview mirror, sending me a definite back-off glare.

"Yeah," Ali said. "Until I can get back on my feet."

"How kind," he said, not quite keeping the sarcasm out of his voice.

I fought the urge to kick the back of his seat. Instead, I took long, slow breaths and leaned back. Nothing good ever came from losing my temper.

"I think it is," Ali said. "I don't know how much more afraid I would have been if he hadn't found me out." Her defensiveness caught me off guard. "It was terrifying in the beginning."

Nick muttered something about her still needing to be afraid under his breath. If Ali heard him, she didn't show it.

We drove the rest of the way in not-quite comfortable silence. Ali stared up the side of my building in awe as we parked. It was impressive, glinting with glass and steel and reaching high into the sky like a tree trying to outgrow its neighbors. "It's huge."

"Wait until you see the inside," I said, smiling. "The view's stunning."

"Let me guess," Nick said, glancing up as well. "Penthouse."

"It's like you know me," I said and led them inside.

Nick followed us into the elevator. I sighed, but kept my peace. His being here was a good thing. If I kept telling myself so, maybe I could convince myself that it was true.

As soon as the elevator doors parted, I marched down the short hallway to the penthouse's door. I swiped my key-card through the lock and swung the door open for Ali to step in first. She gasped and went straight to one of the picture windows.

"Amazing," she breathed. "I love this place."

"It's okay."

She glanced over her shoulder and I shrugged. I always liked the apartment, but it took having people over to realize how cold it was. Neat, clean lines. Black, white, and red. Modern, sleek furniture to offset years spent amongst my father's antiques, arranged to make the best of the living room's space. The open-plan kitchen and dining area were to the left. The kitchen was spacious, the way I preferred, and the black dining table was big enough to seat four people. The windows were the real showpiece, stretching floor to ceiling and across the entire wall, giving me a panoramic view over Manhattan.

I used to like the order and space in the apartment. Now, with Ali here, it felt too clinical. I shrugged off my coat and went for hers.

She let me pull it off. "You must love the view most."

"I used to, but you get used to it after a while. I do like the sense of space, though. In the city—"

"But above everything," Nick cut in.

I didn't miss the verbal jab. If he thought I didn't realize how vulnerable protecting Ali made us all, he was wrong. There wasn't a better way. Not while she was unable to remember anything.

Ali yawned. "Mmm...don't know where that came from."

"You're healing. It'll be a few more days before you feel up to scratch. Let me take you to your room."

"I'll fall asleep," she warned.

"That's okay," Nick said. "Take a nap. We'll have a nice dinner ready by the time you're awake."

She smiled and let me show her the way to the guest room. It lacked personality. I never entertained, so I never bothered to add anything to the standard hotel-like décor the interior designer had gone with. A bed with a high, cushioned gray bed stile. Black bedside tables. Chrome lamps with black shades. Single Chinese characters painted on white and framed in black.

This didn't suit Ali. Still, she smiled and complimented my taste before flopping onto the bed with a contented sigh. "Heavenly."

I leaned against the doorjamb, watching her. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay." She peeked up and met my gaze, smiling. "Ryan?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

I sent her a jaunty smile and a small bow before closing the door.

Nick had started cooking while I was with her. It was a skill all griffs learned early. With our metabolism being pretty damn fast, we got very hungry, and often. Still, seeing him there, making himself at home in my kitchen, brought a frown to my face. He wasn't supposed to be here. We'd stopped speaking decades ago.

"I don't think she'll wake up before tomorrow morning." The scent of frying onions wafted my way. My stomach made a little hungry twist.

"What the fuck are you thinking?" Nick demanded, eyeing me like I'd said I was about to die or something else insane.

"That the onions smell good." My stab at humor didn't go over well. I sighed. "I couldn't let her wander off alone."

He blinked. "You couldn't?"

"Oh, shut it. Believe it or not, I've changed." I picked up a knife and casually flicked it into position to cut the beef he'd taken out of the fridge.

"Griffs like you don't change. You said so yourself."

I busied myself with dicing the meat into blocks. Truth was, I'd tried to change. In the decades since the Second World War, I hadn't crossed the line to my true nature. Not once. Yet right now, my every fiber was honed in on Ali. It was all I could do not to break through the bonds I used to keep my true nature in check.

"Could be I was wrong," I said.

But was he? 

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