Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(109)

“Is she yours?”

I concealed a smile while rubbing my feet and ankles.

“You are also a Shifter?” Viktor asked. He probably already knew, but it steered the conversation away from Blue.

“Born and bred.” Joe cackled. “That’s why I like it out here. Ain’t much competition when it comes to land. I’ve been around a long time, and most Shifters migrated to warmer climates. Easier to hunt, not as much wood chopping, they don’t have to deal with snow. I don’t mind the cold. But sometimes it gets a little lonely up here, if you know what I mean.”

Viktor stood up and helped Blue to her feet. “Come lie down.” When she reached the loveseat, she collapsed, her eyes already closed. Viktor unfolded a red-and-brown blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa and tucked it around her. When he finished, he touched her cheek. “Sleep, my dear.”

Joe twisted his mouth to the side and moseyed back to the stove. “I ain’t got pillows for everyone. This isn’t a hotel.”

He walked a few paces and snatched one from his bed. Viktor watched him like a hawk as he circled the couch and tucked it beneath Blue’s head. Joe lingered for a moment, and when he lifted a lock of her hair to his nose and smelled it, Viktor seized his arm.

“We appreciate your hospitality, but we need sleep before we leave at first light.”

Joe straightened up, eyes still on Blue. “I forgot how good a woman smells.” Then his gaze swung over to me.

Christian stepped forward. “I’ll thank you to keep your hands off the women.”

“Pardon me?” Joe said in clipped words, gaze snapping around. “I don’t like your tone. You think I’m the kind of fella who rapes women? Vamps like you make me sick. And don’t get too snuggly in here, because you’re sleeping outside.”

“Not necessary,” Viktor said. “He’ll stay out of your way.”

Joe pointed at the bat head on the wall, eyes still on Christian. “I don’t like anything with fangs. That one tried to take a bite out of me last winter. You want a spot in its place? My old cabin’s forty paces that way,” he said, pointing toward the fireplace. “You can hole up in there unless you’d rather stand in the snow. But that thought creeps me the hell out, so do me a favor and keep out of sight.”

Christian looked like he’d been through this song and dance before, so he tipped an invisible hat on his head and left the cabin.

Joe didn’t come across as a bad guy—just a recluse who’d spent too many years living on his own. In any case, it didn’t seem right to cuddle up by a warm fire while Christian got the boot. Especially when we both knew that Joe’s rule also applied to me.

Dammit.

I stood up and headed out. Viktor didn’t try to stop me, but Joe said something as I slammed the door.

“You don’t have to do this,” Christian said, watching me put on my boots. “The cold doesn’t bother me, and he doesn’t know what you are.”

I grabbed my jacket and put it on. “Where you go, I go.”

His dark brow arched, and he headed in the direction Joe had pointed. The trail wasn’t as shoveled as the others, but it was fine.

“Do you think he’s serious about spiders?” I asked. “They can’t live where it’s below freezing, can they?”

“I suppose that’s why they want to warm up against your arse.”

“Shit,” I murmured, picking up a stick. “I might as well get this over with. Why don’t you get a fire going while I make a quick detour?”

“What’s the stick for?”

“Bears,” I said facetiously.

Christian chuckled warmly, still hiking through the snow. “Good thing you’re armed. Though I’d be more concerned about the unsanitary conditions of his lavatory. Better gather up some frozen leaves while you’re at it.”

“I bet you’re just loving this.” I kicked snow at him and steered away toward the cabin. “I want that fire hot!”

His laughter faded, and I relied on my better-than-average vision to walk the path.

I glanced upward at the dark sky, remembering the magnificent colors of the northern lights. The trees now obscured them, or maybe it had all been a lovely dream. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in all my life—not even the meteor showers I’d watched from the top of my father’s trailer. As I kept walking, I wondered if I’d be better off just peeing by a tree. But that civilized voice inside my head decided that I needed to separate myself from the animals.

I knew I was getting close when I could smell the outhouse. It was a violation against nature, and I pinched my nose as the wooden structure came into view. When I opened the door and stared into the darkness, my lungs begged me to stop. A flashlight hung inside the door right next to one of those car deodorizers shaped like a pine tree.

“Hell no.”

I grabbed the flashlight and slammed the door. How long had it been since he relocated? Wasn’t there a cap on usage? I flipped on the light and located an acceptable bush behind the outhouse to do my business.

“So much for dignity.”

I unzipped my pants, and the cold air on my ass made me hurry. Moments like these were the only times I envied men.

Just as I finished, a twig snapped in the woods.