Page 34 of Howl for the Gargoyle

"Look, I won't lie to you, this might go to absolute shit and you might both hate me by the end of it, but…" I took a deep breath, and Kiernan blinked, losing his frown the moment before I spoke. "We're telling George we're in for the tour. No sooner than we've got planned now. I don't know what's going to happen—"

But Kiernan was up off the couch and charging toward me, and behind me Mikey was whooping in victory. I found myself laughing as Kiernan lifted me off my feet, swinging me side to side in a crushing hug. It was more a laugh of surprise than joy, and some panic too, because now that I'd said the words, I had to follow through with them.

"Hahaha, shit, sucks to be Lawrence," Mikey cackled from behind us, but he didn't offer to run out and tell Lawrence the good news, either. Mikey was loyal, more than I'd realized till now, and Lawrence's decision had pissed him off as much as the rest of us.

Kiernan set me down, and I couldn't bear to look at his beaming smile. "I'm serious," I whispered. "I still don't know if I can do it. But we're not telling George that, and I will try."

Kiernan nodded too fast, and I shot him a glare until he swallowed his grin and stopped nodding. "Han, I hear you. I know like, logistically, you're alone in this, okay? But we are here for you. So maybe start letting us help you figure it out?"

I wasn't sure what Kiernan and Mikey could offer, but it probably was past time to start telling them more about my new patterns and the boundaries I wanted in place.

"Let's start by figuring out how to replace our bassist," I muttered.

Kiernan snorted. "Saw your face. Don't pretend to be sad."

My lips twitched. "Fine, I won't. But I will be inconvenienced. We're gonna have to replace album art, audition, and I'm prickly now. I don't like new people."

Kiernan arched an eyebrow. "You've never liked new people, Han. Call George, give him the good news, and then drop that problem into his lap. In the meantime, I might actually have a few people I can call."

I trusted Kiernan's taste over George's, so that was a relief. It might've been dangling a golden carrot in another bassist's face that I would later yank away if I realized the tour was impossible for me, but Kiernan had been right—I owed it to our work and our music and our friendship to try. I probably even owed it to myself to seek reconciliation with the beast in me now.

I knew the first step I wanted to take, and it was coming up in a week. The anticipation was killing me, and also the anxiety, and the itch under my skin demanding now. Maybe I was spending a little too much time considering everything I could look forward to, but it was only a handful of days now. It seemed that I'd found one bright spot to a full moon.

CHAPTER 13

Rafe

A twig snapped in the woods, and I paused in my work to glance out the window. But a twig wasn't an approaching car, and I shook myself and went back to readying the newly improved lasagne I'd been working on.

I'd gotten the call from Astraeya barely a week ago. Hannah had requested an alteration to our appointment. Three nights during the full moon, instead of one. There'd been one small fly in the ointment: I'd agreed to take on a new client, a gorgon, and the dates conflicted. Except it hadn't been a fly at all; it had been a relief to have Astraeya reassign the gorgon to someone else. I should've asked her to see if we could reschedule instead, considering I was running low on clients, but that wasn't what had come out of my mouth.

"Check with Benjamin," I'd said instead. "I'm staying with Hannah."

For three nights. MSA had moved our appointment out of the city and into one of their secure cottages. We'd be fenced in, but Hannah would be free to run and howl and go wild over a good ten acres of woodland during tomorrow night's full moon. I'd already checked the moon rise and set time, and we had tonight, all day tomorrow, and until eleven p.m. tomorrow night before she shifted. And then another afternoon and night afterwards. I'd always liked the day after a full moon best with werewolf clients. It was usually a lot of resting and stretching and relaxing in quiet. The idea of soothing Hannah after a full moon had me phoning up Khell and harassing him for all his best aftercare tips.

Another crunch came from outside, but this time it was gravel in the distance, and then the glow of headlights circling the kitchen walls. An odd flip bounced in my chest, and I rolled my eyes. Client, partner, I thought, sternly reminding myself of our roles. I hadn't been this excited for a client since my first years, before the repetition and the boredom wore me down, making me weary. It was nice to have the excitement back, but I still had to keep my head on straight.

Except when the door to the cottage opened, I dropped the giant casserole dish to the counter and ran to the hall, breathless for absolutely no reason at all.

Hannah entered the cottage quietly, but I was glad to see most of last month's tension missing from her face tonight. Her gaze skirted to me briefly—shy or wary?—and then around the hall of the cottage. It was more rustic than the apartments we'd met in previously, the modest interior clearly dressed up for Hannah's lush tastes. The ceilings were high and the rooms were wide, and I could stretch my wings out easily when I wanted.

"Hey," I greeted, the word sounding lame on my tongue. But I was busy studying her. She had an overnight bag and was wearing a pair of stylish drawstring pants. Easy to get her out of, although not as quick as the wrap dress.

"Hi. Something smells good," she murmured, hanging back by the door. I'd marveled at the way she never went on the immediate attack, but now I wanted to break her of this reserved habit too.

"Give me two minutes," I said, keeping my gaze on her as I retreated into the kitchen. She followed, which was enough for me to turn around and focus.

I sprinkled the cheese liberally on top of the dish. Hannah's bag thumped on the floor, and I rustled my wings, offering her glimpses of my back and ass since I knew she liked to stare. I opened the oven and slid the dish inside, setting the timer, and when I turned around again, Hannah was leaning in the doorway, her jacket off. Her nipples strained through the thin material of her tank top, and we stared at one another for a moment before I recalled Elias's instructions from months ago.

I crossed to her, and the second I was within reach her hands were on my face, pulling me in for a kiss.

"Rafe," she breathed as I leaned in. She was tense, stiff at first as I grasped her hips, and she arched forcefully against me, needing more than she was willing to demand. Our tongues stroked against one another, and her fingers dug into my cheeks, trying to drag me closer.

"How long do we have?" she rasped.

Three whole damn nights, I thought gleefully, before I realized what she was asking.

"Over an hour," I said, scratching my teeth over her jaw as her hands slid back into my hair. My own were already working on the easy bow of a tie at her waist, the ribbon unwinding around my fingers.

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