Love & Hate, Part IV ~ Paul Lahote
Summary: Sick of his life being dictated by the wolf inside, Paul Lahote is determined to keep one choice for himself and never imprint on anyone. But the wolf has different ideas
Sam and Emily had been picked up by some friends, leaving me nearly all alone in a house that wasn’t my own with a teenage werewolf whose face I didn’t recognize and whose name Emily hadn’t mentioned. How many werewolves were there? Were they a garden-variety compared to vampires? Perhaps like a pigeon to peacock ratio?
Preferring crackpot theories to boredom, I pulled out my phone and braved the internet, diving deep into insane theories about werewolves and shapeshifters. Most of it was certainly hogwash, just like the beginnings of my research on vampires. I was on the verge of giving up for the day when a website advertising a few books on Quileute legends popped up. And the address of the bookstore was in Port Angeles.
But how to get out of house arrest long enough to drive there? I still didn’t even have my own car.
I looked up from my phone to study the werewolf asleep on the couch I slept on every night. Some guard dog.
My eyes fell on Emily’s keys on the kitchen counter.
I tried to be as silent as possible as I walked into the kitchen, but my bad leg made a gentle thump every time I put it down to put weight on it, my cane gently tapping against the floor.
But the werewolf asleep on the couch was dead to the world. He needed to tell me the secret, because that couch was less comfortable than a marble floor.
Keys in my hand, I made it to the door and slipped out of it. Still no sound came from the house as I twisted the key in the ignition. I started to reverse as I put my seatbelt on.
I still wasn’t looking in my rearview mirror when a loud thud resounded through the car. I slammed on the brakes, my heart bludgeoning in my chest as I twisted to look behind me to see what I’d hit.
Paul stood behind the car, a hand on the trunk of the car where he must’ve slammed it down.
For a moment, relief coursed through me when I saw that he seemed unharmed, but the relief promptly ran from the chasing anger. I threw open the door, only to be dragged back by the seat belt I’d forgotten. I yanked myself free and stalked towards the thick-headed werewolf.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” I hissed. “I could’ve hit you!”
Paul snorted like the mere idea of the car hurting him at all was completely ridiculous. “What are you doing?”
My cane still in the car, I pressed a hand against the car to keep my balance, trying to slow my heart rate. “You gave me a heart attack!”
He jutted out his chin, stubbornness practically oozing out of his pores. “Well, I can hear your heart, and it’s just fine. What are you doing with Emily’s car?”
Deciding to ignore the comment about him hearing my heartbeat, I realized I couldn’t tell him about the plan to go to the bookstore. He’d go ballistic. I needed to warm him up to the idea, which I didn’t have the time for now. “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to come up with an alternate excuse for driving away in the car. “Aren’t you supposed to be out in the woods, howling or something?”
“Where are you going on your own?”
Shaking my head, I put my back to him, limping back to the car.
“Hey, cinnamon sugar, I asked you a question.”
