Laws of Nature -2 Christopher Golden (ebook reader web .txt) 📖

minutes left before seven A.M., when it would have begun to jangle angrily to rouse her from dreamland.

But there were no dreams for Courtney this morning.

Already preoccupied, she reached out and clicked off the alarm, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her hair hung across her face and she brushed it away, feeling just as rumpled as the sheets that were bunched at the foot of the bed. She had not slept well at all, waking frequently, mind awhirl with thoughts of Jack and Molly, and of Prowlers.

Courtney had responsibilities - the pub, the bills - but she had somehow convinced herself to set aside her primary responsibility, the safety and welfare of her little brother. Of course, Jack was not exactly little anymore; he could take care of himself. Still, she worried, and she cursed her bad leg for making her a liability. If not for that, she might have gone with him, all other responsibilities be damned.

Jack would call to check in with her, tell her where they were staying, all of that. But it was barely seven, and it wasn't likely he'd call before eight. It was going to be a long morning.

With a low sigh, Courtney reached for the lion's head cane she had inherited from her grandfather and stood up. In the mirror across the room she could see herself - just as rumpled as she had imagined - with the faded nightshirt hugging her body. She thought she looked pretty good, all things considered, even though the old shirt was decorated with cavorting teddy bears.

Her mind flashed to Bill Cantwell, asleep in the next room while Jack was away, and she blushed at her image in the mirror. With the support of her cane, she walked to the closet and pulled out an old striped robe that had once belonged to her mother. It was frayed at the hem and around the belt, but her only other robe was a thick terrycloth thing that would have melted her in the heat and humidity of July.

After cinching the belt around her waist, Courtney opened the door and stepped out into the hall. The door to Jack's room was closed, and she found her thoughts skittering into territory better left alone. Courtney had not had a serious boyfriend since before the accident ten years earlier that had damaged her leg and killed her mother. Dates, certainly, though with the pub she rarely made time for them. And there had been a man a few years ago whom she thought might become someone special. That relationship had withered on the vine.

Now there was Bill. He meant a lot to her, and there was a serious attraction between them. They'd confessed as much to each another, but things had not progressed further, burdened, as she was, with the knowledge that Bill was not human.

How could she be involved with a man who was not a man? The question had lingered night after night as she tried to wish it away. Bill was technically an animal, and yet that did not make him any less the man she knew and cared for deeply. Or so she told herself.

But what about right now? she thought. Behind that door, is it Bill lying there in Jack's bed, or is it the Prowler? She knew that the creatures had to focus to retain human appearance, and wondered if that meant that during sleep they changed. Courtney chided herself for her thoughts, however. She knew that there was no man and beast where Bill was concerned. They were one and the same.

With her free hand she rubbed at her eyes, still burning from the rough night's sleep. Then she walked down the hall and into the kitchen. She was startled to see Bill sitting at the kitchen table, and let out a tiny gasp as she recoiled from the sight of him.

His eyes went wide in innocent dismay. "Wow. I know I look pretty scary in the morning, but I didn't think I looked that bad."

"No," she said hurriedly. "No, Bill, I just . . . the door was closed so I thought you were still sleeping."

He smiled. "That's a relief."

Courtney smiled in return. She hobbled to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup that he had made. Despite what Bill had said, Courtney thought he looked pretty good in the morning. He wore navy blue sweat-pants and a New England Patriots T-shirt that was torn at the collar. His eyes sparkled.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked, unintentionally echoing her own thoughts from moments before. It made her self-conscious, and she glanced away from him.

"I did all right. Jack's mattress is hard, but it's comfortable enough. What about you?"

"Not so well," she confessed. "Worried about Jack, I guess."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh, we're telling the truth, are we? Well, then I admit it, I slept pretty poorly myself."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Is the bed too hard? You can sleep on the pull-out if you want. I'm sure Molly wouldn't mind."

Bill's smile was sweet and knowing. "I slept poorly because you were right on the other side of the wall. It was kind of a distraction, knowing you were curled up in there."

Taken aback, Courtney could only blink and stare at him.

The smile disappeared from Bill's face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I just . . . being here with you . . ." He looked a bit appalled with himself and ran a hand through his hair.

The overall effect of his awkwardness was decidedly charming. Courtney leaned forward and reached for his hand. She slipped her fingers into his and placed her other hand over his. Bill glanced up expectantly, still obviously uncomfortable with what he had said.

"It's all right," she told him.

"Now's not the time," Bill said. "We've got Jack and Molly to worry about, and the pub and all. Bad timing."

"Is there ever good timing?" she asked, half