Shift

New Home

"Where are we?" Stacey asked, yawning.
It was cold. She'd tried to sleep away the whole drive, ignoring Chris's pleading glances, his sad stares.
By now, everyone knew she was missing. She imagined her father, devastated and desperate- he'd been very protective since her mom's death. She pictured Amanda, worried like crazy about her father and about Stacey. She pictured Isaac, how different the house would be. She wondered if he would miss her. She pictured Jess's tears, her anger and fear. Finally, she pictured Erik.
Would he cry? She knew his beautiful blue eyes would be cold, distant; he wouldn't bother shaving the stubble on his face; he would call her a thousand times and throw the phone against the wall when she didn't answer.

Stacey's eyes were too dry and tired to fill with tears, but she had to cross her arms over her chest to soothe the pang she felt when she thought of her loved ones without her.
She looked out the windshield. The grass was beautifully green, the sky peeking through a section of the darkly clustered trees.
She was in the middle of a forest, at a beautiful house. There was a dainty river flowing behind the white modern-looking house, and the trees thickened on the other side of the bank.
It looked like people could drive for miles into this forest and never stumble upon this magical clearing.

Chris still hasn't answered her question. She raised her eyebrows at him.

He sighed. "Follow me. I'll explain everything."

She slowly climbed out of the car, stomach sinking. Whatever he was going to tell her could not be good.

She followed him into the house. The floors were hard wood, all of the furniture modern, fluffy, soft, and white. A light gray stone fireplace took up the large portion of one wall, a pile of blankets in the corner next to it making it the perfect cuddle spot.
Her cheeks warmed as she took in the large, open concept room. The back wall really caught her eyes- it was totally glass, showing a spectacular view of the river and the trees.
She smiled softly, moving through the room behind Chris, taking in the nice big kitchen and the plush carpeted hallway. They came to a bedroom with a double bed, made up in a soft lavender fluffy comforter, white blanket folded at the bottom. It had a pretty white rug, and the walls were white. The carpet was fluffy and lavender, the exact shade of the comforter. There was a huge arched window, a white fluffy chair in front. A little tiny fireplace was across from the foot of the bed. The closet doors were open- it was a great size. Stacey glanced at Chris questioningly.
"Your room," he explained.
She nodded, setting her duffel down at the foot of the bed.
He led her across the hall. He pushed the door open and Stacey gasped.
The room was beautiful. The white plush carpet was thick enough to sleep on. The king sized, four poster bed was made up in a garnet comforter, soft throw pillows everywhere. A fireplace was on the wall to the left of the bed, so big that it had a mantle. The walls were wooden, no window in the room. It gave the master bedroom a secluded forest-y feel, like the room was all by itself in the middle of some enchanted woods.
Stacey's cheeks flamed as a quick vision of a honeymoon in this room flashed into her mind.
"My room," he murmured.
She nodded, hurrying back into the hall and trying to stop blushing.
She fidgeted with her hair while chris led her to the living room. She sat in a chair, a little sideways to avoid sinking back and putting her feet on the ottoman; she didn't want to lounge right now.

"Stacey," Chris whispered, voice cracking.

Her heart pounded. He looked so sad, so worried, so stressed.
There were bags under his eyes, and stubble on his face. His hair was long, hanging in his eyes when he looked down.
She wanted to hold him. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to go home. She wanted to climb into that king sized bed and sleep peacefully with him for the first time since he left.

"Yes?" She asked.
"I can't believe you're here."
"I've always been here, Chris. You're the one who left."
Her voice shook, fists clenching. How dare he?
"I left for you," he argued, voice desperate.
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious. You don't know a lot about our...world."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Mine. But if you would just listen, I would explain."
She crossed her arms, cocking an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

"Some people hate us. Supernaturals- that's what we call ourselves. The necromancers, the shifters, the shamans. We like community, especially the shifters. There's something about sharing such a special part of you with people who are like you that means a lot, makes life a little easier... But there are some humans that want to do away with supernaturals. They think we're evil, unnatural, dangerous."
Stacey frowned, her arms uncrossing, hands coming to rest in her lap. How did humans even know about them?
"As long as we've been around, they've persecuted us. The Salem Witch Trials? That was to rid the world of supernaturals."
Stacey's frown deepened; it made sense.
"There have been burnings, bombings, you name it. Some humans are more perceptive than others, and when the Purge gets to them, they're persuasive. The Purge is that group of humans who wants to purge the world of the dangerous supernaturals," he explained, voice venomous.
"Luckily, we've gotten good at hiding. But when we found each other, when you had that god awful experience at the mill, when I waited out the full moon to see if you would shift or not, a Purger found me. My mom sensed him."
Stacey's hands flew to her mouth. Chris was in danger because of her. He'd tried to protect her, and he'd been discovered.
"I left to draw attention away from you, to clear the suspicion. And it killed me."
Stacey's heart was pounding. All the confusion, anger, desolation...was for nothing, because he'd only tried to save her.
"I saw you with... with Erik. And I understand if you've...moved on. Because I left. But I love you, Stacey, and I plan to win you back. Leaving you was not a mistake, because it saved you. But it was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I regret that I couldn't explain everything."
She felt warm all over. He loved her. He wanted her. He'd protected her.
"The Purge was on my trail. They were on their way to my house when I left. I stopped to tell you goodbye, and it just about broke me. I wanted to tell you everything, but I had to be gone," he told her passionately.
She nodded, hugging herself tightly.
"I came back for you," he murmured, "because I got a lead on the Purger who found me and was quickly moving on to you," he explained, fists clenched hard, jaw tight. He looked pained.
"Who?" She whispered, knowing the answer would hurt.
"Jessica and Erik Stanley's father."
~
Chris
~
Chris laid awake, staring at the flames crackling in the fireplace.
This was his home, his safe haven, and Stacey was with him, safe, just across the hall.
But he was wide awake, worried.
His animal ears could pick up the sound of her crying, and it was anguish to hear. She hadn't believed him about her friend's...boyfriend's...dad at first. She'd accused him of lying, of being jealous. And he was jealous- so jealous that he felt sick at the mention of Erik Stanley's name. But he'd been telling her the truth.
When she finally believed him, all of the fight left her at once. Her whole body seemed to deflate, passionate eyes dimming. It broke his heart.
She'd locked herself in her bathroom, running the bath water for hours- she must have taken the hottest bath her body could physically handle.
When she came out, Chris could smell her sweet rose scent, magnified by a hundred with the steam and the wetness of her hair. It drove him wild, but she simply locked her bedroom door and hadn't moved since.
He'd eaten dinner alone and crawled into bed early.
When he finally heard Stacey's breathing even out, he listened to her fireplace and his, pretending that they were in the same room and finally welcomed sleep.