Page 20 of Wicked

I like Candlewick’s friends. Revolver is goofy after two shots and ends up challenging us to a game of Battleship. He unearths a collector’s edition of the game from a cabinet in the living room and sits at the eat-in table expectantly.

Candlewick smiles at me and says, “Teams? Us against them?”

Which is how I end up playing Battleship with Candlewick at three o’clock in the morning. The game mostly involves Candlewick and Revolver shouting locations at each other while Lester sips at his vodka primly and peers over Revolver’s shoulder, giving him advice that he refuses to take.

Candlewick has only had half a shot, so he has the clear advantage. I sit next to him and whisper suggestions in his ear, keeping my hand firmly on his thigh. I can’t get enough of how good it feels to touch him.

Lester intermittently asks me questions about my life.

“Where do you live?”

I own property in upstate New York, but I’ve lived in Rixton until recently.

“What do you do for a living?”

I work for a friend who helps displaced red wolf shifters.

“Where did you meet Candlewick?”

I picked him up at Transmuto Correctional Facility tonight.

Revolver’s mouth drops open. “Wait, you met him tonight? At the jail? You were in jail, Candlewick? Also, why are you playing Battleship with us your first night together? Don’t you want to be boning each other?”

Candlewick laughs.

“I’m serious. You know what? The game ends here. You two need some alone time in our large guest room that happens to have a mirror on the ceiling. You’re welcome.”

Candlewick glances at me hopefully. “Do you want to sleep on the couch, or…”

If I go into the guest room with him, I know I’ll make love to him. At least orally, maybe more if I can’t control myself. And I’m starting to understand that when it comes to Candlewick, I have very little self-control.

“No. I’d like to sleep next to you,” I say.

Maybe I’ll regret it. Or maybe I’ll cherish the memory of tonight for the rest of my life.

“Why would he sleep on the couch?” Revolver asks.

Candlewick looks directly at me as he says, “He follows the red wolf god, so we have to do things a little differently to respect the traditions of his faith.”

If I wasn’t falling in love with him already, I would be now.

“He doesn’t live on the compound,” Lester says. It isn’t a question.

I shake my head. “I was kicked out. I, um, spent some time in the breeding pits. That was a long time ago, though. Twelve years.”

I hate the pity I see in Lester’s eyes. I’ve always disliked the way people react to what I’ve experienced in my life. From that point forward, most of them only see me as a victim. Sure, I’ve had some hard times and seen some horrible things, but it’s just like I told Candlewick. People who survive abuse aren’t weak, and pity is neither kind nor useful. It just feels condescending.

“He’s best friends with Timber, the porn star,” Candlewick says.

I hold back a laugh. That’s my mate right there. Clever, resourceful, understanding. Of course he knows the art of distraction.

Revolver covers his hand with his mouth. “Daddy Timber?”

“Yes. Can you believe it?”

Lester considers me with a small smile on his lips as if my friendship with Timber has transformed me into a different person. Maybe he’s right. Timber is the kind of man who changes people for the better.

“Let’s get you settled for the night,” Lester says and walks toward the hallway.

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