For a Few Demons More(201)

So I smiled.

“Wow,” I said, coming to take the ice cream Ivy had picked up off the floor. “This is great! And yeah, I’m surprised.” I let the bags of groceries slip to the couch and took off my coat. “I really don’t believe this. Thanks, guys.”

Ceri gave my upper arm a squeeze in support, and then her expression blanked. “I forgot the cake!” she exclaimed, green eyes going wide. “I left it on my table!”

“There’s cake?” I said, wincing when Jenks flicked on the stereo and Marilyn Manson’s “Personal Jesus” blared out before he turned it down. Ceri must have made it, because we’d thrown the old one out. I hadn’t been able to eat it while Kisten lay in the morgue, and now that he was cremated and in Ivy’s room, I felt no different. But tonight other people’s feelings were involved, and I realized I was going to have to eat Ceri’s cake or risk hurting her feelings.

Jenks flitted back to me, shooing his kids away from the soda. “Hell, yes, there’s cake!” he said, loud to cover Ceri’s distress. “Can’t have a birthday without cake. I’ll help you, Ceri.”

The pretty elf shook her head. “You stay,” she said, halfway to the door. “No need for you to leave. I’ll go get it. I’ll be right back.” She jerked to a stop and retraced her steps, smiling and bright. “Here,” she said, taking her hat off and putting it on me. “Wear this.”

Ivy snickered, and I reached up to touch it. “Thanks,” I said, cursing my outright fear of hurting her feelings. Great. I was going to be eating cake in a silly hat. Damn it, no one had better have a camera.

Keasley’s brown, arthritic hands gathered up the handles of the canvas grocery sacks. “I’ll take those. You entertain,” he said, pulling them from the couch. Hesitating, he turned, bending his once-tall height to give me a fatherly kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Rachel. You’re quite the young woman. Your father would be proud of you.”

If they were trying to cheer me up, they were doing a lousy job of it. “Thanks,” I said, feeling my throat start to take on a lump.

I turned, looking for something to do. Ivy was supervising Jenks handing out soda to his kids in little cups made from the plastic plugs they put in pressboard furniture to hide the holes. David caught my eye and started over. His worn brown boots showed from under his blue jeans, and he scuffed to an uncertain halt. I hadn’t seen him since the night I’d been lying on the floor, drugged as he told Minias that he had a legal right to make decisions for me. David had saved my life as much as Ceri.

“Happy birthday,” he said, clearly wanting to say something more. Hell, a handshake wasn’t going to do it, and as a wash of gratitude warmed me, I reached out and brought him close, taking him in a hug. His arms were solid and real. Comforting. The complicated scent of Were filled my senses, and I closed my eyes, feeling my chest grow heavy when I noticed the differences between being held by him and Kisten. I’d never hold Kisten again.

I clenched my jaw and refused to cry. I didn’t want to talk about Kisten. I wanted to pretend we were all normal. But I had to say something. I couldn’t let David think I wasn’t grateful for what he’d done. “Thank you,” I said into his shirt. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“It was an honor.” His voice rumbled from him to me through his chest, and his hold on me grew more certain now that he knew that the depth of my emotion was coming from gratitude.

“I’m sorry about Brett,” I said miserably, and his grip tightened.

“Me too,” he said, and I heard the pain in his voice, the loss of more than a fellow Were, but a possible friend. “I want to make him a member of our pack posthumously.”

“I’d like that,” I said, throat closing. Giving my arms a squeeze, he let go and backed up.

I met his eyes, surprised at the flash of fear. It was the curse. It was afraid of me, and it was only David’s alpha confidence that held it in check. Anyone else might have misunderstood the fleeting, deep-seated terror, but I’d had that thing in my thoughts. I knew what it was. And it was dangerous. “David…”

“Don’t,” he said, his dark eyes fixing on me to stop my words. “I did the right thing. I turned five women, and it killed three of them. If I have the curse in me, I can help Serena and Kally.” His anger left him as he got lost in a memory. “And it’s not that bad,” he finished, gesturing helplessly. “I feel good. Whole. Like this is the way I was supposed to be.”