I kept my eyes on them as they rounded the bend, and I kept staring after them long after their forms had disappeared.
I smelled him first, then heard the telltale shuffle of badger paws on gravel accompanied by the soft grunting that Elliot always made when moving at speed in badger form.
“You didn’t let them see you, did you?”
A grunt—the kind I knew meant assent.
I sighed. “Did you hear the whole thing?” I asked him.
Another grunt. The same kind.
“You think I should have bitten them, don’t you?”
Another grunt, this time followed by the funny chuffling sound that I knew was Elliot’s badger-laugh. Despite my anger, it made my lips twitch.
I sighed, then slowly climbed the stairs to the porch and unlocked the door, holding it open so that Elliot could precede me inside, his claws clacking on the floor, leaving behind muddy smudges. Part of me felt compelled to clean up after him, but the rest of me recognized that nobody actually cared about the floors of the house and that I was still on crutches, so mopping was probably not the best use of my time.
I might be allowed to drive, but I wasn’t yet allowed off the crutches, which I was supposed to keep using for at least another nine days. I was supposed to make a follow-up appointment at that point, too—except I wasn’t sure what state I was going to be in, so I didn’t want to make one with my usual doctor, since they liked to charge me when I missed them, which happened all too often in my line of work.
I really didn’t want to still be in Virginia in nine days.
But, as had become abundantly clear, what Iwantedclearly had very little impact on what ended up happening to me.
I made my way to the bathroom, then pulled a set of clothes out of Elliot’s backpack—which I’d brought with me—to set on the counter. Elliot had left the door open while he showered off the mud.
“That you, baby?”
“Were you expecting someone else?” I asked him.
“Always good to ask,” came the reply. “Just in case I was about to suggest to Helen or Ray or Val that they come in and join me.”
I snorted. “Ray might take you up on that.”
Elliot laughed. “He’s not really my type.”
“What, too old?”
“Just a little.” The water shut off, and he pushed the curtain open, not bothering to cover himself as he reached for a towel. “I like them a bit younger.”
I snorted again. “Planning on trading me in for a newer model?” I teased. I was joking, but there was a tiny part of me that did worry that he might get tired of me, regardless of age.
But Elliot frowned at me. “Why is it that you can’t believe that I love you?” he asked me, his voice serious and a little hurt as he looked up from drying his face with the towel.
“I do,” I protested.
“Then why ask me that?” he wanted to know, stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around his waist.
“I was kidding,” I protested.
He grunted, then ran his fingers through his hair. I pulled his brush out of the backpack and handed it to him. “You were, and you weren’t,” he replied, starting to run the brush through the long black hair with its white streak.
I sighed. I didn’t want to fight with him. I also really didn’t want to admit that he was right.
He paused in his brushing, meeting my gaze through his reflection in the mirror. “Seth, I’m not going to get tired of you.”
I looked away from the sharpness of his gaze in the mirror, studying one of my own hands, the nails split and uneven from neglect. “I didn’t say that.”
“Baby,” he said softly, setting down the brush and coming over to put both warm, damp hands on my waist. “You didn’t have to.” He stood on his toes to press a kiss to my cheek. “But I promise you that every day I get less and less tired of living with you.”
