Chapter 2 - Fates, Fins, and Fangs

WHEN WE PULLED UP TO the bar in my old Toyota Prius, the place was packed. I should have expected it on a Friday night, but I wasn't thinking about that when I decided to drink my problems away.

Chike let out a low, rich chuckle at the expression on my face. "Yeah. So many people," he agreed. Neither of us was really a people person on the best of days. I preferred my books, and Chike...he'd rather clean fish tanks or stare at a canvass than make small talk or hand out obligatory smiles.

I sighed. "As long as they aren't out of beer, we'll be fine."

We made our way through the door and into the bar. I loved the place. It was a weird mix of old-world tavern and new-world yuppie. We stood in line to get drinks from a massive wooden bar, earning a few jealous looks when the little, redheaded bartender spent too much time on our drinks and waved away our money.

Oisin winked at me and slid two more drinks our way. "Trust me," he said with a grin, "it's only going to get busier in here. Best fill up while you can."

"Thanks!" I said, having to shout to be heard over the chaos. Everyone was flocking to the bar to try and get Oisin's attention. I just shook my head. Sure, as a teenager, I'd had as much of a crush on the pretty flirt as anyone else who met him, but then I realized who he was dating and that my stupid crush was a lost cause. Like...really lost. Several times over.

I took my two glasses of beer and followed Chike through the crowd to a table that was just emptying out. He took a sip from one of his glasses—some neon blue concoction that looked like it was probably radioactive—and looked around. "Darts?" he asked, his pretty amethyst eyes sliding over the crowd. "Or dancing?" I watched him as I realized I had no clue what his real eye color was. He never went anywhere without his contacts in. I knew him so well. How had I never questioned that before?

"Uh," I said intelligently, when I realized he was still staring at me, waiting for an answer. "I'll murder you at darts, then you can humiliate me on the dance floor."

He chuckled. "If you say so."

We had to wait for a dart game to finish before we could worm our way in. I slumped into a chair while Chike hitched a hip against the table, slouching near me with his lean grace so we didn't have to shout to hear each other. "So, what's this about rainbows?" he said with a raised eyebrow. He even dyed his freaking eyebrows lavender. Such a diva.

I sighed and took a deep drink of my beer. I felt like an idiot now, so long after the fact. "I think it's the stress," I said finally. "I'm finishing up exams, and there's clinical rotations, and Aunt Alva only just got home from her last round of treatment."

He tilted his head, and a wisp of soft purple hair escaped his subdued manbun. "What happened?" His eyebrows creased in concern.

I worried my lip, knowing I was about to sound like a nutcase. But this was Chike we were talking about. I'd known him for four years, ever since we were both awkward teenagers. If he hadn't run away from my weirdness by now, he probably wasn't going to.

"One minute, I was getting ready to take a bath. The next minute I was standing on a rainbow," I said, staring down at the foam on my beer. "And a big black cloud of death and destruction was rushing right toward me."

I shrugged. "I'm used to the crazy dreams. But they're getting worse. And now I'm seeing shit in the middle of the day."

He pressed his lips together, then took another drink. I noticed his glass was already almost empty.

"Do you think I should go to the doctor?" I asked, my heart racing in my chest. I was in nursing school. I knew damned well I should probably make sure I didn't have a brain tumor. But I had spent the last six months by Aunt Alva's side as she fought her way through cancer treatments and invasive procedures. The thought of doing that myself was terrifying. I'd rather live with the hallucinations than deal with the medical system when my own health was involved.

Chike stood up and set his drink aside. "Don't go to the doctor yet," he said with a shrug. "You're right. It's probably just stress. Look, our turn!" He pushed away from the table and went to take over the dartboard, while its previous users ribbed each other and collected on bets.

I was surprised that Chike wasn't urging me to seek medical attention. But I was secretly relieved to have someone back up my bad decisions. I rewarded him by kicking his ass at darts. Badly.

He laughed it off as we both finished our drinks, then he dragged me onto the small cleared space by the antique juke box and exacted his revenge.

It's not that I don't like dancing. I love it, actually. But even I know it's not a pretty thing to watch. Chike was a good sport, though. He spun me around the floor like we were some sort of sexy professional dancers, making up our own moves as we went. During the upbeat songs, he tossed insults my way, accompanied by exaggerated expressions of horror that had me gasping for breath and tripping over my feet in laughter. He made me forget everything weird going on lately, every bad thing that had ever happened to me.

It was his superpower. And I'd only ever seen him use it on me. The chip on Chike's shoulder was massive. Immovable. But when he smiled at me like this, I kind of forgot how grumpy he was to the other ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the population.

The music slowed to some ridiculously melodramatic country ballad and he yanked me close with exaggerated flare, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding the other hand in his as if we were about to start up with a waltz. "That poor jukebox needs an enema," he whispered in my ear, earning a snort and a few crushed toes when he distracted me, and I stomped on his foot.

He laughed and held me closer, and I tried not to let my body light up like a torch. "For the love of the gods, woman," he chided with a smile playing across his perfect lips, "don't move your feet. Just...sway in place or something. I want to be able to walk tomorrow."

I laughed and dropped my forehead against his, since we were nearly the same height. "You say the sweetest things."

His graceful fingers wrapped tighter around mine and the other hand stroked over my low back, just above the more-than-ample curve of my ass. "If only you knew the things I don't say."

I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. I was shocked to see that he wasn't laughing at me anymore. He was suddenly serious. And...the look in his pretty eyes made my breath stutter in my chest. He released me abruptly. "Sorry," he said with a wry look. "I need to go...use the bathroom."

I watched in confusion as he made his way around the crowded dance area toward the back of the bar. What had just happened?

When the minutes ticked by and he didn't return, I scooped up our glasses and dropped them at the end of the bar. Then I headed toward the little hallway where the bathrooms were. Maybe he was sick or something? He had pounded whatever that neon stuff was pretty fast. But it usually took a hell of a lot of booze to get Chike tipsy. The alcoholic.

I finally saw a flash of violet and made my way around the line for the women's room to see Chike standing in a dimly lit corner across the hall, near an employees only door that led to the back of the bar. I opened my mouth to call out when I saw he was with Oisin. Then I snapped my mouth shut. The hot redhead reached out and grabbed Chike by the back of the neck, pulling him down so their faces were close. He said something, his eyes intent, and his posture stiff. Chike closed his eyes and a shudder wracked his whole body.

I backed away. I don't know what the hell I just saw but...I really wanted to unsee it. They were so close. Why were they all up in each other's business in a shady corner of the bar? I reminded myself that Chike could go off and get cozy with pretty guys whenever he wanted. We had never been anything more than friends. To him.

But...Oisin? That was a problem. What would I tell his girlfriend? Should I even say anything? Maybe it was none of my business. It wasn't like I'd seen them making out. Maybe I was only jumping to kinky conclusions. Two pretty men in a dark corner having an intense, secret conversation didn't mean they were about to make out, right?

I retreated and tried to get a grip on myself. But after what seemed like forever loitering by the dance floor, I still couldn't seem to get myself together.  Forget it. I would just wait in the car.

I was almost to the door, when long fingers wrapped around my wrist. "Hey, Troy?"

I turned back to find Chike trailing behind me, his coat over his arm. "Where are you going? Done already? I thought you were determined to get shitfaced."

His hair was down. And when had he taken off his jacket? I turned away and continued out the door into the cooler night air. "There's booze at the apartment," I huffed. "And way less people. But you can stay here if you want."

He shrugged into his coat and followed me to the car. "By myself? With all those rednecks? Gods no." He gave a melodramatic shudder.

I couldn't quite find it in me to laugh and pretend everything was okay.

Because I was an asshole.

When we pulled up to the apartment, Chike parked out front, then killed the engine. I was out the door and into the house before he even got the keys out of the ignition. My head was a mess. For some reason, I kept seeing flashes of silver armor and blood, interspersed with the sight of Chike pressed against another guy in a dimly lit room, his hands and lips exploring as if they didn't have an audience.

I shook my head. I really did need to go see a doctor. I was losing my fucking mind.

The bells above the shop door jangled behind me and I turned to see Chike locking up. The bookshop and the amazing apartments above it belonged to Oisin and Gesa, but they had decided to rent the place out when their family got too big for the space. They still ran the bookstore out of the lower level, but the upper space—which consisted of two more floors in an old, brick row building—was all ours. Mine and Chike's. And our other roommate.

"You okay, Troy?" Chike said from close by. The room was lit only by the faint glow from the porchlight streaming in through the stained-glass windows. We were surrounded by rows and rows of tall shelves filled with old friends. I think I had read almost every book in the place in the four years since I moved to Ontonagon with my aunt, after my parents died in a car wreck.

And Chike had been here since the beginning. We'd been teenagers then. We'd grown up together these last four years. We'd always been close. Why was I acting like this?

"I'm fine," I said tiredly. "Sorry. I just...I don't know what's wrong with me."

He sighed. "I'm sorry I disappeared on you, in the bar. I had to...get my head on straight."

I scoffed and turned away to make my way through the dimly lit store and toward the spiral staircase that led to the living area. "I saw you getting your head straight." I muttered, before I could stop myself.

Chike was at my side, grabbing my arm and pulling me back toward him. "What are you talking about? Seriously, Troy, what is your problem all the sudden?"

I smacked his hand away and turned toward him. "I saw you and Oisin," I hissed. "It's none of my business where you want to put your dick, but I'd be careful there. Gesa is going to murder you."

Chike didn't respond for a long moment, just clutched my arm tighter. "You...you saw me and Oisin talking and you think I'm fucking him?"

I heaved a sigh and tried to pull my arm away. "I know, none of my damned business."

He yanked me back and I slammed into him, my chest pressed to his as my considerably heavier weight carried us back a few steps. We both almost fell on our asses. Damn, for such a slender guy, he was freaky strong when he got pissed off.

"For fuck's sake!" he griped.

Then...he kissed me.

I don't know what I'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. Chike's lips were soft, but demanding. He was pissed. And I didn't even know why. I knew why I was so mad though. Because I didn't want to think of Chike out there, making out with some guy—no matter who it was. I was pissed because even though I'd told myself how stupid it was again and again for years, I still couldn't help wanting him.

I was an idiot.

Except...he was kissing me. I sank into him, opened to him and let him devour me. Baldur’s beautiful balls, who would have known that Chike was such a pushy kisser? He looked so soft, but his whole body was rigid. The hand that slipped through my hair to cup my head and hold me still was sure and strong. One hand slid down my back and fitted me closer to his slender body, and I thought I'd die right there, just from the feel of his body against mine through our clothes.

I really needed to get laid more often.

I pulled back, gasping for air, wanting to ask him a million questions. Things like why? How? When?

But when I opened my eyes, I was staring at a stranger.

Chike's purple eyes glowed in the darkness. And his skin glinted with something metallic, almost like...scales, where the dim light hit his sharper than usual cheekbones.

"Troy?" he breathed. My eyes darted to his mouth, which was full of short, pointed teeth.

I scrambled backward, a scream caught in my throat. Chike reached for me, frowning in confusion, but I tripped over my own foot and fell on my ass. "Don't!" I yelped as he moved toward me.

Light flickered on overhead, and I blinked in confusion. Chike was crouched next to me, looking perfectly normal. Or as normal as he ever did, with his feminine beauty and his stupid purple hair and eyes. He put a hand on my shoulder, and I flinched.

"What are you guys doing down here?" a smooth, rich voice said from the top of the stairs.

Our other roommate, Rhys. Chike was still frowning at me. "Nothing," he said distractedly. "We went out."

Rhys leaned against the wall and stared down at us, all blond, athletic perfection. "Oh, I see that. You know, if you want to make out in the bookstore, you should turn on the lamp. There's too much stuff to trip over down there."

I shoved myself to my feet and glanced up to see him smirking, his eyes dancing. Shit. He'd seen us.

I headed up the stairs, trying to ignore the way his light green eyes lingered on me. But just as I went to pass him, he glanced at Chike and his expression went sly. "I thought dating our roommate was off limits. Shame on you."

Chike glared at him. "Stuff it."

Rhys just laughed and slung an arm around Chike as he reached the landing. "Oh, I don't think so." Those light citrine eyes met mine and I felt my entire body flush with heat. "You see, if you can break the rules, that means so can I."

I turned my back on them and hurried to my room. Maybe this whole fucking day had all been nothing more than one long hallucination.

Because no way. Just no. Chike, who I thought was gay this entire time, did not just kiss me. Rhys, who was a fucking god of a man, did not just insinuate that he wanted a shot at me too.

And I sure as fuck didn't just see Chike turn into a monster down there in the bookstore.

If the choice was that this really happened, or that I had a brain tumor...well, I think I'd take the tumor.