as cats.
But crap, it had only been a few days and Jonah had gotten right under his skin, in a way that tempted Trey.
That was all right. Trey knew how to control himself. But he had to be careful not to create an expectation in Jonah that Trey could not meet. Because in two weeks, Trey would be walking out of here and Jonah would be left behind. Trey wished he had somewhere to take Jonah to, someone who could befriend the young man. However Trey had created a life for himself that existed of living among people who would like to destroy shifters if they discovered them.
Trey was aware of why he stayed away from his own kind. They had killed what he loved, more than once, and in more ways than one. A lifetime ago, Trey had led death to his lover, and while Jonah was in no way his lover, he would not endanger another innocent.
Too many memories of Quinn, alive and then dead, torn apart by wolves who Trey had in turn destroyed. The revenge had not been sweet. Trey had not been able to move on.
He closed his eyes and forced his mind to close down on thought; he painted a palette of rivers and lakes and blue sky in his mind’s eye, and when that was completed, he relaxed enough to fall asleep.
The next morning, Trey helped out with the breakfast routine, starting the fire, doing the dishes. Jonah was back in shy, noncommunicative mode, with occasional hopeful glances at Trey. An improvement, really. It signaled he wanted Trey’s company.
Trey wasn’t used to being the one who made the conversational volleys and tended to avoid being put in any such situation, but this situation with Jonah was different in many, many ways.
Standing up, Trey stretched. “I slept well last night. Thanks for that.”
Jonah ducked his head. It appeared that with those eight words Trey was embarrassing him with excessive praise. “It’s fine,” he mumbled. In anyone else this reaction would have been put-on, fake, but with Jonah it was alarmingly endearing.
Trey cleared his throat. “What’s your project today?”
Those lynx eyes widened. “Project?”
“You usually have a project, at least that’s how it has seemed to me, be it making me a cot or feeding the deer.”
Jonah peered at him for a moment, as if trying to read Trey’s real meaning. “Well, I haven’t thought of one. Is there something you want to do?”
Trey wanted to understand everything about Jonah’s life so he could figure out a way to help him. He gestured to the books. “I’m curious about your library, where you got the books from, what you use them for now.”
Jonah shook his head, dismissing the books and everything about them. So Trey walked over and studied the titles. Nonfiction mostly, and a lot of technical stuff. He pulled out a few books and flipped through them to see they were math texts with equations and some history of math.
“I think you like math, Jonah.”
He shrugged. “So?”
Odd response. “So, that’s good.”
Jonah grimaced. “Why’s it good ?”
“It’s easier to be a sane shifter if you’re interested in studying, keeps your human side going.” A memory of his first night here, when Jonah had called him Enigma, came back to him. “You were going to tell me about the Enigma machine.”
The expression on Jonah’s face clearly conveyed that he believed he was being humored, if not patronized. Obviously some asshole had belittled Jonah in the past.
“What did your mother think of you being interested in math?”
Jonah blinked at the change in subject, or maybe at mentioning his mother. “She was proud of me,” he said warily.
“Good.”
Jonah frowned, perhaps at that word good again.
“And your brother, Craig, what did he think?”
“He didn’t care.” Jonah shifted, almost scowling. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m wondering why you’re defensive about math, that’s all.” He flipped through another book, mostly equations. He thought he’d be able to wait Jonah out on this as he continued to browse.
Five minutes
But crap, it had only been a few days and Jonah had gotten right under his skin, in a way that tempted Trey.
That was all right. Trey knew how to control himself. But he had to be careful not to create an expectation in Jonah that Trey could not meet. Because in two weeks, Trey would be walking out of here and Jonah would be left behind. Trey wished he had somewhere to take Jonah to, someone who could befriend the young man. However Trey had created a life for himself that existed of living among people who would like to destroy shifters if they discovered them.
Trey was aware of why he stayed away from his own kind. They had killed what he loved, more than once, and in more ways than one. A lifetime ago, Trey had led death to his lover, and while Jonah was in no way his lover, he would not endanger another innocent.
Too many memories of Quinn, alive and then dead, torn apart by wolves who Trey had in turn destroyed. The revenge had not been sweet. Trey had not been able to move on.
He closed his eyes and forced his mind to close down on thought; he painted a palette of rivers and lakes and blue sky in his mind’s eye, and when that was completed, he relaxed enough to fall asleep.
The next morning, Trey helped out with the breakfast routine, starting the fire, doing the dishes. Jonah was back in shy, noncommunicative mode, with occasional hopeful glances at Trey. An improvement, really. It signaled he wanted Trey’s company.
Trey wasn’t used to being the one who made the conversational volleys and tended to avoid being put in any such situation, but this situation with Jonah was different in many, many ways.
Standing up, Trey stretched. “I slept well last night. Thanks for that.”
Jonah ducked his head. It appeared that with those eight words Trey was embarrassing him with excessive praise. “It’s fine,” he mumbled. In anyone else this reaction would have been put-on, fake, but with Jonah it was alarmingly endearing.
Trey cleared his throat. “What’s your project today?”
Those lynx eyes widened. “Project?”
“You usually have a project, at least that’s how it has seemed to me, be it making me a cot or feeding the deer.”
Jonah peered at him for a moment, as if trying to read Trey’s real meaning. “Well, I haven’t thought of one. Is there something you want to do?”
Trey wanted to understand everything about Jonah’s life so he could figure out a way to help him. He gestured to the books. “I’m curious about your library, where you got the books from, what you use them for now.”
Jonah shook his head, dismissing the books and everything about them. So Trey walked over and studied the titles. Nonfiction mostly, and a lot of technical stuff. He pulled out a few books and flipped through them to see they were math texts with equations and some history of math.
“I think you like math, Jonah.”
He shrugged. “So?”
Odd response. “So, that’s good.”
Jonah grimaced. “Why’s it good ?”
“It’s easier to be a sane shifter if you’re interested in studying, keeps your human side going.” A memory of his first night here, when Jonah had called him Enigma, came back to him. “You were going to tell me about the Enigma machine.”
The expression on Jonah’s face clearly conveyed that he believed he was being humored, if not patronized. Obviously some asshole had belittled Jonah in the past.
“What did your mother think of you being interested in math?”
Jonah blinked at the change in subject, or maybe at mentioning his mother. “She was proud of me,” he said warily.
“Good.”
Jonah frowned, perhaps at that word good again.
“And your brother, Craig, what did he think?”
“He didn’t care.” Jonah shifted, almost scowling. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m wondering why you’re defensive about math, that’s all.” He flipped through another book, mostly equations. He thought he’d be able to wait Jonah out on this as he continued to browse.
Five minutes
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