“Does your room have a repaired window?”

“Yes.”  I didn’t move to open the door, though.  I could just imagine how he’d react to a bed and dresser.

“Show me.”

I briefly narrowed my eyes at him, reached out, and opened the room I shared with Mary.  Was he just looking for signs I’d settled in so he could complain?  I stepped inside.  He followed me, moving further into the room.  He took a deep breath as he studied everything.  He looked at the bed longest.

His expression changed slightly.  Some of the arrogance left.

“Are you comfortable at night?” he asked quietly.  He turned toward me, letting his arms once again fall loosely to his sides.

I didn’t like the sudden change.

Seven

Thomas’ gaze held mine in the lamplight, and I realized the purpose behind this tour and why he still stood there.  He didn’t care about the bed or the dresser or the changes I’d made.

“You want to bite me, too, don’t you?”

He didn't flinch in guilt or look away as a spark of need lit in his eyes.

“Yes.”

His softly spoken word made me shiver.

“Biting hurts, you know.  A lot.  So, I’ll pass.”  I turned and started to walk away from him.

“I saw you, and I couldn’t breathe.”  His quiet admission slowed my steps.  “The world and all of the responsibilities it’s given me fell away.  There was only you, and I wanted nothing else.”

I stopped walking but didn’t turn.  “And now?”

“Now...”

I looked over my shoulder and caught him running a hand through his hair.  His gaze was on the floor, and he frowned.

“Responsibilities never go away.  My people depend on me.  I want you.  But I can’t walk away from my responsibilities to chase you.”

“Chase me?  I don’t want to be chased.”  I’d been chased twice already and had hated it.

“Then give me your permission to Claim you.”

I snorted.  He’d almost been sweet for a minute there.  But I doubted any of his kind really knew what it meant to be sweet.  It just didn’t seem to be in their nature.  They were too wild, too disconnected with their human sides.

“You don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be human,” I said.

“What does that have to do with Claiming you?”

“I’m human,” I said in exasperation.  “Just what are you going to do with me when you Claim me?”  I ignored the glint that flared in his eyes and pressed my point.  “Do you think I’d survive a winter in these woods?  Are you ready to live in this place permanently?  How will you feed me?  I’ve noticed your kind doesn’t seem to think vegetables are a requirement in their daily menu.  For me, they are.  I can get sick from lack of the right foods, from exposure, from...well, a lot.  And I don’t heal like you.”  I tilted my head so he could see the bite marks still there.

“You need to learn what it means to be human before you can care for one.”  I didn’t just mean physically, either.

He stood there for several breaths just watching me, frustration plain on his face.  When he spoke, there was a hint of it in his voice, too.

“While you’re in here hiding, they’re out there fighting.  This needs to end.  I know you’re the right one.”  He eyed me for a moment as if he expected some reaction to that statement.  I gave none, and he let out a half-growl.  “With your permission, we could end this chaos.”

I didn’t like the way he said permission, as if he thought it completely unreasonable that I had a say in my own future.

“What if you bite me, and it doesn’t work again?” I said.

“It will work.”

“I understand you’re certain, but I’m not.  What if it doesn’t work?”

“I’m certain enough for both of us.  I smell you, and I know.”

I snorted again.  I could see it becoming a habit with him around.

“The other two that bit me thought they knew, too.  So, since you’re not inclined to think ahead and plan for more than one possibility, allow me.  If you bite me and it doesn’t work, those men out there will become more aggressive.  They won’t content themselves with just meeting me because they’ll know I’ve given my permission to someone, and each one will want his chance at a little nip.  The fighting will escalate.  And—here’s the important part—I’ll have another wound to try to keep clean.

“My answer remains a very firm no.  If you don’t like it, tell me to leave.  I’m not sure this is the right place for me, anyway.”

A collective howl rose outside my window.  I realized too late that I’d grown a bit loud.

Thomas studied me, his expression once again closed.  Then, he turned and left.

I sat on the bed.  I wasn’t ready to return to the main room, just in case he hadn’t actually left.  So I stared at the dresser that now served as shelves for the few clothes Mary and I owned.  As I stared at the items, I realized that without a source of heat I would freeze in this bedroom when winter arrived.  I’d need to move my bed back into the main room near the fire.  Picturing the big and drafty room, I knew I’d need better clothes regardless.  How many weeks did I have left before the weather started to turn cold?

When I estimated enough time had passed, I went back downstairs.  The main room was empty and the fire almost out.  I set the lantern on the table, put another piece of wood on the small flames, and moved to inspect the paper bags.

Winifred was smart about the supplies.  There were cans of vegetables, fruit, and tuna fish and bags of pasta, rice, and dried beans.  Enough for a variety of meals.  Flat sheets filled the last bag along with three spools of thread and four needles.

“I scoured rummage sales,” Winifred said, making me jump.

I turned and saw her closing the door.

“Mary told me you were fixing the windows.  I thought you might want curtains.  Especially, for this one.”

“Thank you.”  I fingered the fabric of the top sheet.  It was plain white, well used and soft.  “I might be able to find other ways to use these, too.”  Like for more bandages.  I might need them soon.

“I thought you might,” she said, and for a moment, it seemed as if she was answering my last thought.  “How are you doing?”

“Just fine,” I said as she walked toward me.  “This won’t stop, will it?”

She shook her head.

“I never meant to cause any of you trouble.  I was just looking for a place to sleep.”

She patted my hand.  “Despite how it looks, we are glad you found us.”

“We?”  I laughed.  “I don’t think everyone’s happy.”

“Don’t worry.  Those who aren’t will come around.”  She sat across from me and picked up a cookie from the plate.  Only six remained.  But I still had some squeeze cheese and bread and jam left.  I was pretty sure Mary and Gregory had sampled everything while I napped.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow night.  But I’ll return Friday evening again.”

That meant today was Saturday since she’d arrived late last night.  The idea of spending another tense week here bothered me.  I frowned and reached for another cookie.

“Don’t give up on us,” she said, watching me.  “We’re rough around the edges, but we can learn.”

I nodded, took a bite, and sighed.  Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give up on them.  Those men wouldn’t let me leave, and I had nowhere else to go.  We sat together in silence.  Once I finished the cookie, I quietly excused myself and went to bed.

In my room, I listened to the muffled night sounds until my lids grew heavy.

*    *    *    *

As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew something was different.  I was staring at a wall—a close up view.  Since my bed had been in the middle of the room, the view didn’t make sense.

I lifted my head and looked around.  My bed was now against the right interior wall.  Against the other wall, Mary lay in a bed similar to mine.  She was awake and grinning at me.