27: Running From Caspian

Quincy St. Martin

Twenty-five minutes of listening to Adam, the manager of the café, lecturing me about things you should never ever do to a customer—unless they’re on fire—after I splashed the water all over that bitchy woman.

Three days since I last saw Jonah and still no word from him.

Nine hours since Penny revealed to me that they’re lycans.

One hour of productive doodling.

Seven phone calls and five texts from Caspian, which I have ignored…so far.

I’m lying on my stomach on my bed, and when my phone dings again with a new text, I swipe the screen and scroll through his messages.

Tuesday, 4:00 p.m.

Caspian

Hello, Princess.

Tuesday, 4:04 p.m.

Caspian

I need to see you. Call me when you’re done at the café.

Tuesday, 5:47 p.m.

Caspian

Princess, are you ignoring me? Answer the phone.

Tuesday, 5:52 p.m.

Caspian

Do I need to remind you that you belong to me?

What a caveman.

Tuesday, 5:59 p.m.

Caspian

Answer the damn phone, princess.

Tuesday, 6:01 p.m.

Caspian

Is this how it’s going to be?

The phone vibrates in my hand to show that he’s calling me again, but I throw the phone on the bed beside me like it scorched my skin.

My heart is thudding fast in my chest, and my hands feel clammy. I wipe my hands down my sweatpants and continue doodling, mulling things over in my head.

It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him, but I need some time to think things through. There is so much to take in.

He’s a lycan? I’m his mate? What does that mean? How is this my life?

He didn’t sound too happy in his last text. Oh, well, I’m not too happy either. There are so many things he didn’t tell me last night.

My brain keeps circling the fact that he’s a lycan and that I’m his mate. I can’t think of anything else. I’m so pissed that he never mentioned what he really is last night.

Clanging and banging sounds come from the kitchen. Layla is cooking Ethiopian food. It smells wonderful.

I offered to help earlier, but she told me to stay away from the kitchen. According to Layla, the kitchen is a hazardous place to be when I’m in it, unless I’m busy eating.

My phone stops buzzing, but another ding follows, signaling another text coming in.

Even after knowing that he’s one of the most dangerous creatures on earth, my heart still pines for him. My body craves him.

I roll onto my back and almost automatically my hand reaches out to pick up the phone. I swipe the screen to read the latest text.

Tuesday, 6:02 p.m.

Caspian

Damn it, Quincy!

Another incoming call from him. As soon as I hit Ignore, another text comes in.

Tuesday, 6:02 p.m.

Caspian

That’s it. I’m coming to get you.

Wait! What? I almost drop the phone on my face.

Tuesday, 6:03 p.m.

Quincy

No you’re not!

Quincy

I’m not ready to see you. I need more time.

Caspian

I’m done giving you time. I want to see you now.

Quincy

Not tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Caspian

Too late. On my way.

Oh, my God! No, no, no! What do I do now? I’m not ready to see him.

Quincy

Tomorrow ok?

No answer.

Quincy

Caspian! Don’t you dare come over.

Still no answer. Argghh!!!!

I jump out of the bed and look down at what I’m wearing. I’m in a pair of old sweatpants and a worn blue T-shirt with a hole in the shoulder.

My hair is a mess. I’m a mess! I might pretend that I don’t care, but I really don’t want him to see me like this. Oh my God! Oh my God! I run around in panic before I pull a pair of ripped jeans and a newer shirt out of the dresser.

After I change, I quickly brush my hair and swipe strawberry flavored lip-gloss over my lips.

What am I doing? If I take off now, would he be able to find me? That’s it! I can take off before he gets here. I pull socks on and fish around for my missing pair of Converse underneath my bed.

“Are you going out?” I bang my head against the side of the bed. Owww.

“Layla, you scared me!” I rub my head.

Layla is standing by the door with her hands on her hips. “I thought we were having dinner together?”

“Uh, sorry, Layla. Something came up.” I’m now sitting on the floor, pulling my Converse on.

“Is everything okay?” she asks me, looking concerned.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s great.” Yeah, great if you think running away from a lycan is great.

A funny nervous laugh comes out from my mouth, and I scratch my head, which suddenly feels itchy. Layla keeps staring at me with narrowed eyes, and I suddenly find very interesting dirt on my shoes. I hate lying to Layla.

“Layla?” I lift my face up. “What do you know about lycans?”

Her eyebrows come up. “Ummm…” She scratches her chin as if she’s searching for something to say.

“Oh, oh, I got one,” she says with a bright smile as if she just solved a puzzle. “Don’t piss off a lycan.”

“Thanks, Layla.”

“You are welcome.” She looks so proud of herself. My sarcasm is an epic fail.

I know why Layla isn’t taking my question seriously. The lycan population is very small, and they don’t really mix with werewolves, let alone humans. Seeing a lycan is very rare. I doubt if any werewolves from my old pack have ever seen one.

I know Nana never saw one her whole life.

“I’m hungry. I’ve made some vegetable stew. I cooked enough for several people. Why don’t you have some before you go out?” she asks me.

Before I can answer her, the doorbell rings. Darn it! That must be him. I should’ve known. He drives like a madman.

“No! Don’t answer that,” I tell her, jumping to my feet.

Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do? Maybe I could climb out the window. Layla is now staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. Now there’s knocking on the door.

“Quincy, open the door,” demands a deep familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Who is that?” Layla asks me.

“I don’t know?” I squeak. My heart is pounding fast, and I’m contemplating whether to go hide behind the door of my bedroom or underneath the bed.

“Quincy, my love, I know you’re in there,” he says again.

“My love?” Layla’s eyebrows almost come up to her hairline.

This time I answer him. “Go away! I’m busy right now.”

Yeah, busy figuring out where to hide or how to get out of this.

“I’m not going anywhere without you. There’s nowhere you can go or hide that I won’t find you. Now open the door, sweetheart.”

His voice is beautiful and compelling. Is he using his lycan mojo on us or something?

“I’m answering the door,” says Layla as if she can’t help herself, and she rushes to the door before I can stop her. My stomach hollows out and my feet are stuck to the floor when I see him standing there.

He’s in all black, which contrasts immensely with his shiny blond hair and golden tanned skin. His usually immaculate hair is now messy and stands out in several different directions. He still looks as sexy as hell...and very pissed off.

His eyes are locked on mine. The hunger in them is so intense. A predator eyeing its prey. Yet I can’t move a muscle. Energy hums between us.

He stalks in as if he has every right to do so without taking his eyes off of me. Layla is just standing by the door with her mouth hanging open.

“Hey, hi,” I manage to say when he's finally standing right in front of me.

He doesn’t return my greeting, but he grabs my face in between his hands and mutters, “Why do you have to make things so complicated between us?”

Then he slams his lips against mine and steals my breath.

His lips are possessive and demanding, making my knees go weak. His teeth nip at my bottom lip before he sucks it. Then he runs his tongue along the seam and plunges inside. Just as I’m getting lost in his taste and his mouth and his scent, he pulls back.

My eyelids flutter open, and I let out a soft sound of protest before I can stop myself. That earns me a triumphant, smug look on his face. The devil!

“The easy way or the hard way, ~moya printsessa~?”

Huh? What? He stands there like he's waiting for me to say something, but what? My lips are still tingling from the kiss. My mind is still swimming in a beautiful cloud.

“The hard way it is,” he says before he grabs my waist and hoists me over his shoulder. What the hell?

“What the hell, Caspian? Put me down!” I yell.

“Thank you for opening the door,” he says to Layla, who is still standing frozen by the door.

“You’re welcome.” Layla answers softly as if she’s in a daze. The traitor!

“Put me down! This is kidnapping!” I yell again as he walks out the door. His arm is gripping my thighs very tightly. “Help! Hel—Owww!!!” I howl.

My butt stings right as I hear a sharp slapping sound. He did not just spank me!

“That’s for ignoring me today,” he says.

“Screw you!” I try to wiggle out of his tight grip.

“Are you giving me another reason to spank you?” He stops right in front of a flashy silver Alfa Romeo, his voice daring me to defy him.

In fact, there’s a mischievous note in it that tells me he’s counting on it.

This is so wrong. It’s so wrong that he’s in control. It’s so wrong that he’s not a human. It’s so wrong that he’s enjoying this.

It’s so wrong that I’m so turned on.