There was something about seeing Alex standing in my foyer, leaned up against the kitschy antique table my mom bought at a flea market, that seemed right.
“So, why did I have to hear that Jaseʼs parents were taking him to speak with a recruiting coach in Louisville this weekend from Tinsley Henson?” he asked.
“I didnʼt realize you were interested in my brotherʼs college career.”
“Iʼm not. Unlike the rest of Western Kentucky, I couldnʼt care less which school your brother goes to. I do care that you have this house to yourself all weekend.” It took two short steps for him to reach me. His hands rested on my hips as my arms automatically wound around his neck. “I thought you might like some company.”
I was going to tell him that he had his information wrong, but my lips were too busy doing something else. If I had mentioned it, perhaps Alex wouldnʼt have bit my tongue when he heard my name being yelled from the top of the stairs.
“Ouch!” I yelped. His teeth were sharp.
Alexʼs eyes were wide. “Youʼre not alone?”
“No, Angel is here.” My tongue throbbed slightly. “Iʼm not going to turn into a werewolf now, am I?” Dr. Smithʼs book, which I read from cover to cover three times, said that lycanthropy, the ability to turn into a wolf, couldnʼt be passed through biting, but I needed to be reassured.
“Shifters are born, not made.”
At that moment my little sister appeared in the archway that led from the foyer to the kitchen. She was prepared to launch into a full-on whine about something or another, but then she realized that we had company.
“Alex!” she shrieked, running at him.
“Angel!” He lifted her up and gave her a giant bear hug, complete with a growl. It was like watching the climatic reunion at the end of one of those movies where the kid has been separated from her family because she was off on some grand adventure involving a dog or talking gerbil. Only, in real life, it managed to be even more annoying.
“Alex came by to pick up some Shakespeare notes,” I said. “He was just leaving.” He sat her back down and rested one of his hands atop of her cow-licked head. “Leave?
No! I havenʼt seen him in a million billion years!” Her sky-colored eyes blinked slowly twice as the corners of her mouth pulled down and inward, causing her bottom lip to jut out slightly. The patented Angel Donovan puppy dog face. “Canʼt you stay for a little while? Pleeeeeeeease?” There was no doubt that he would cave. It takes years of practice to resist the puppy dog face, with even the most seasoned of us still succumbing on occasion. “I think I could stay for a little bit longer.”
“I donʼt think thatʼs a good idea,” I said, interrupting Angelʼs squeal of delight.
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
She thought about it for a minute. “Well, Jase isnʼt here. He wonʼt know.” The quirk of Alexʼs mouth said, My point exactly.
“And what about when he gets home and finds out?”
My little sister placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side in a familiar stance. “Iʼm not going to tell him. Are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” Her victorious smile was mirrored on Alexʼs face. “Cʼmon, Alex. I want to show you something.”
Angel led Alex through the house, giving him a tour of the mundane lives of the Donovan family. I tried to excuse myself to go change clothes, but Alex wasnʼt having it. He tugged on one of my braids and told me that he was developing a newfound fondness for unicorns when I suggested it.
After a full inventory of the first level of our house, Angel marched him up the stairs to the first door on the right. “This is my room,” she said, hand on the knob.
“You donʼt want to go in there,” I warned.
“Iʼm tough. I think I can handle whatever a seven year old girl can dish out.”
“Suit yourself.” I positioned myself against the furthest wall and waited for the show to start.
It didnʼt take long. There was a horrid yowl followed by an almost-scream. A second later, a white blur flew out the door and down the stairs. My sister followed as fast as her little legs would carry her. When I turned back, Alex was filling the doorway.
“She has a cat,” he said, rubbing an angry red mark on his neck.
“Yes, she does.”
“Cats hate Shifters.”
“I figured that out already.” I pulled myself off the wall and took a step towards him.
“You could have warned me.” He took a step into the hall.
“I told you that you didnʼt want to go in there.” I closed the distance between us. “Is your neck okay?”
“I think it needs a kiss to make it all better.”
I placed my lips just below his ear, letting his warmth and smell envelop me.
“What are you doing?” Angelʼs voice was like a shock of cold water.
“I was looking at the scratch your evil cat left on Alexʼs neck. Weʼll be lucky if he doesn't come down with Cat Scratch Fever.”
“You were looking at his neck with your mouth?”
Crap.
She might be able to keep the news of an unexpected visitor to herself, but catching me making out with my brotherʼs archnemisis in the hallway? She would tell anyone and everyone that would listen.
Crap, crap, crap.
I searched my brain for something - an explanation, a bribe, a diversion - anything that might salvage the situation.
“Do you want some brownies?”
Brownies? Yeah, that one so wasnʼt going to work.
“ We have brownies?”
Or maybe it was.
“We have a box of brownie mix. Iʼll make them for you.” A look very akin to horror etched itself onto Angelʼs face. “You want to cook me brownies?”
“Sure I do. Itʼll be fun.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a total zeppo in the kitchen,” Alex said. He had propped himself against Angelʼs door frame with one long arm. He was the picture of ease, whereas I was bordering on a complete breakdown.
“I can make brownies from a box,” I said, my tone a bit harsher than necessary. Couldnʼt he at least pretend to care that we were in serious trouble here?
“But youʼll burn them,” Angel whined. “You always burn everything. Even toast.” I was about to lose my cool. The idea of fratricide wasnʼt totally unappealing. Mercifully, Alex jumped to Angelʼs rescue.